


Lucky Number 13

by The Tozier Wheeler Twins (omfgiminlovewithneeks)



Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bill Denbrough Doesn't Stutter, F/F, Hogwarts accepts transfer and exchange students, I want some people to be in Hogwarts when something happens, M/M, Multi, Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler Are Twins, because I suck at writing that, do you know how difficult it is to write about 13 main/recurring characters?, so some of them are Americans, some are British, the age gaps between characters has been altered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-05-02 08:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19195036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omfgiminlovewithneeks/pseuds/The%20Tozier%20Wheeler%20Twins
Summary: Their eyes scanned the dark room. From the thick layer of dust covering everything, it was clear that nobody had set foot in there for years. One of the walls seemed to have a poem inscribed on it.When outsiders once [...] roam the halls,[...] storm [...] fire darkness [...] fall.[...]cient p[...]wer, thirteen [...] shall unchain,[...] forgotten breath in [...] foreign domain.[...] witching hour, night [...] the feast,Evil [...] stir [...] wake [...] beast.Th[...]ark [...]error lights up [...] night,S[...]ifices [...] make, if they [...] fight.[...] cast[...] crumbles [...] fiery breath,Saving [...] world [...] one last [...]The rest of the words had been damaged by time, and possibly even by dueling wizards.





	1. The New School Year

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to yet another new fic of mine. I'm killing myself here lmao.
> 
> Hopefully, this will be updated monthly, just like the last one and the subsequent ones.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Mum! Mum! Mum! Mum!” Mike was yelling as he ran back into his house and up the stairs as fast as he could. “It’s arrived!”

Karen Wheeler groaned as she opened her bedroom door to her son’s grin. It was 8 o’clock on a Sunday, furthermore, it was summer, so there was no reason for Mike to be up and more importantly, so  _ energetic _ this early. Of course, unless he was chipper because of the one reason he’d been up early and volunteered to get the mail every day since his vacation began. There was no post on Sunday, so it was impossible for it to be anything else.

“Your acceptance letter?” She asked with a smile. Mike had been looking forward to that ever since Nancy had gotten hers two years ago, as if there was a chance he wouldn’t be accepted. He had exhibited his magic potential when he’d been eight, which, for a couple of Muggle parents — as her ex-husband had called them, had been quite a feat to deal with, especially since she’d just had Holly — her first child with her current husband. All things considered, she believed she’d handled everything wonderfully, although it  _ was _ getting more and more difficult to connect with Nancy when she didn’t know what to talk about anymore.

“I’m going to Hogwarts!” Mike exclaimed cheerfully. “I’m finally going to Hogwarts!”

Karen chuckled softly and walked downstairs to make breakfast for the family, closing the door behind her. Mike walked behind her, talking animatedly about what he expected to learn at his new school. This meant her ex-husband would need to come back to take him shopping sometime soon. She might be good at a lot of things, but dealing with the wizarding world — especially the financial aspect of it — wasn’t her speciality.

 

* * *

 

Mike was still feeling ecstatic as he read the letter for the fifth time.

 

> **_Dear Mr. Michael Wheeler,_ **
> 
>  
> 
> **_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._ **
> 
> **_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._ **
> 
> **_You have received this letter because you first exhibited magical ability in Great Britain or Ireland. If you wish to attend another magical institute, please inform us by 15 July so we can help you with the process._ **
> 
>  
> 
> **_Yours sincerely,_ **
> 
> **_Filius Flitwick_ **
> 
> **_Deputy Headmaster_ **

 

The young Wheeler boy was still unable to believe that this had happened, despite the obvious fact that he had performed magic before. It was hard for him not to be excited, since despite his father being a wizard, he’d spent his whole life with his mother, so he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in this matter. It probably would’ve been different if he was—

_ Oh, crap! I need to call him. _

He’d been too distracted by the letter, and breakfast, and the letter, and, well,  _ the letter, _ to think about anything else, until now. The raven-haired boy sprinted back to his room and picked up the two-way mirror on his nightstand — a present from his dad.

“Richie,” he practically screamed at the mirror, and the image started changing. One moment it was his reflection staring back at him, the next, he was looking at the dark ceiling of his brother’s bedroom.

“Richie! Richie, are you there?” By now, he was pacing his room, holding the mirror, too excited to stay still. “Richie! Wake up!”

Mike heard some incoherent grumbling, and moments later, he was met with his twin brother’s sleepy face looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Mikey?” He asked in a sluggish tone. “It’s like, really,  _ really _ early.”

This was Mike’s fault. He forgot to take into account the time difference between his place and New York. “It’s like 4.30,” he tried with a smile, “not  _ that _ early.”

“It’s 4.23, and it  _ is _ that early,” Richie grumbled. “Why did you call me?”

“I got the letter,” he answered, grinning. “I’m going to Hogwarts, too.”

Richie had gotten his Ilvermorny acceptance letter a while ago and had already transferred to Hogwarts. That hadn’t pleased his stepmother too much, since Maggie was American and thought he’d made a huge mistake, but their dad was a British wizard and thought differently when it came to  _ the best wizarding school in the world. _ He suspected that if wizarding school transferral policy didn’t exist, his dad would’ve given his mum full custody so Richie wouldn’t miss his chance. Obviously, Mike would’ve preferred that, since he would’ve been able to be with his brother more than just during vacations, but that was about to happen since they were going to the same school once summer ended.

“You woke me up for that?” Richie asked in an unimpressed tone, which dampened Mike’s mood a little.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” he huffed.

“Mikey,” his brother groaned, “it’s 4.30 in the morning. Did you seriously think you wouldn’t be accepted to Hogwarts?”

“No, but—”

“And yes, I’m happy for you, and I’m happy that we’ll get to see each other more often,” Richie continued, “but I don’t have the energy right now. Wait five hours and I promise I will hug you until you can’t breathe.”

“Okay, five— Wait, what?” Mike’s eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?” Richie chuckled. “When dad hears about it, he’s gonna floo us right back to celebrate. He already has a present for each of us, and he refuses to let me know in advance.”

“Wait, you’re coming?” Mike asked. “As in, today?”

“Well, not officially,” Richie yawned. “But you know dad. Once I tell him, he’s gonna want to be there as soon as possible. Might wanna warn mom in advance.”

“She knows dad, so she might already expect that,” Mike shrugged. “But I’ll tell her to prepare the guest bedroom.”

“How’s my bed?” Richie asked, and Mike turned the mirror to the other bed in his room — the one littered with Richie and Mike’s toys. “Mikey! Clean my bed!”

“You can clean it when you get here,” Mike grinned.

“Not fair,” Richie growled. “I already have to clean  _ my _ room.”

“Well, last time I was there, you made me clean my bed,” Mike shrugged. “I’m returning the favor.”

“Come on, little brother,” Richie grinned, “do me a favor.”

“I’m not the little brother,” Mike scowled, “you are.”

“That’s not what mom said,” Richie said in a singsong voice.

“But that  _ is _ what dad said,” Mike countered.

Other than the twin separation thing, that had been the biggest pain in both Mike and Richie’s lives. Their parents refused to tell them which of them was the older one. They knew they were five minutes apart from one another, but that was all Karen and Wentworth allowed them to know. Naturally, their mum, who had to take care of Mike  _ and _ their two sisters on a daily basis, claimed that Richie was born first, while their father, who had to deal with Richie’s every shenanigan, insisted that Mike was older. Mike was certain that Nancy knew the answer but refused to tell them just because she enjoyed watching them argue over that.

“If I let you be the older brother today, will you clean my bed for me?” Richie asked.

Mike thought the offer through for a moment before smirking. “A week,” he demanded.

“But you already woke me up in the middle of the night,” Richie scowled. “How am I supposed to have the energy to clean anything after this?”

“You’re Richie,” Mike rolled his eyes, “you have infinite energy. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Richie grumbled. “That bed better be spotless when I get there.”

“Still haven’t heard you say it,  _ little brother, _ ” Mike gave his brother a cocky grin.

“I’m going back to sleep,” Richie huffed. “Remember to tell mom,  _ big brother. _ ”

If possible, Mike was in an even happier mood as he put the mirror down. On top of getting the acceptance letter, his brother could potentially visit him today. The raven-haired boy immediately dashed downstairs to inform his mother about his latest conversation.

 

* * *

 

When Bill heard the knocking on his door, he didn’t expect to find a fuming, almost out of breath Eddie on the other side.

“I just had an argument with my mom,” the shorter boy said, gritting his teeth. It was apparent that he was trying to hold back tears.

Bill sighed and immediately pulled his best friend in for a hug. He wished he could say this was the first time this happened, but Sonia Kaspbrak was the most unreasonable person he’d ever met. “What was it about this time?”

“She doesn’t want me to go to school,” Eddie’s voice was muffled, but the ginger boy could still make out the words. “She thinks keeping me in that house forever was a better alternative.”

Bill pulled away and frowned at his friend. “But that’s not safe. You need to be trained properly or your magic can manifest in ugly ways.”

“What did you think I told her?” Eddie snorted and entered the Denbrough residence. “Then she started ranting about how expensive it would be, as if I don’t know my dad left me enough money for school. She thinks that by locking me up, I won’t end up like him.”

“Your dad was a great Auror and a hero,” Bill said. “He sacrificed himself to save so many people.”

“Try telling my mom that,” Eddie huffed. “Anyway, good thing the school sent a professor to explain everything, because without her backing me up, my mom wouldn’t have backed down. I’ll just need to stay here until both of us have calmed down enough.”

“Well, if she hadn’t backed down, my parents would have a talk with her,” Bill shot his friend a grin. “I’m sure the Ministry has some sort of policies to stop her from doing that, since you will become a threat to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.”

“If they have something to make my mom stop hating magic so much, it’ll be helpful,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I might need your parents to take me shopping with you, though. My mom wouldn’t go anywhere near Diagon Alley.”

“What happened to the professor?” Bill raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t offer to take you?”

“She did,” Eddie shrugged, “but she’s a stranger, after all. I don’t want to have to rely on Professor Henderson before I even go to Hogwarts. Plus, going shopping with my best friend is always better.”

“Not to mention, my parents always buy us treats,” Bill snickered, “especially if Georgie asks for them.”

“Please don’t let him enter Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes again,” Eddie scrunched his nose. “He’s a little devil.”

“You just said that because you couldn’t resist his innocent smile whenever he offered you something,” the taller boy grinned at his friend.

“And were  _ you _ any better? No. So don’t sit there and act all high and mighty,” the brunet boy punched Bill in the shoulder.

“Eddie!” A loud voice exclaimed, and suddenly the shorter boy was tackled by the tiny Denbrough.

Bill just sat there and laughed out loud.

 

* * *

 

Beverly let her eyes scan around Diagon Alley, or as much as an 11-year-old could, to look for her next victims.

She wasn’t trying to be mean, but it wasn’t every day that the place was full of first-year muggle-borns for her to confuse with her made-up facts about Hogwarts. Well, she supposed during the summer, that wasn’t technically true, but it wasn’t every day that she had the chance to, considering this was the first time she’d ever been to London.

Earlier that day, she’d managed to trick one boy into believing they’d need to beat a dragon to gain entrance to Hogwarts, while they were in line to buy textbooks. The trick to identifying first-year muggle-borns was to look at their parents as well. If both the kid and the parent, or parents, looked like they’d been hit by a Confundus charm, then it was almost guaranteed that she could say anything and they’d believe it. However, the boy and his parents were all so sweet, she’d ended up caving and confessing almost immediately after, and had had a really nice conversation with him and his parents, whom she learned were farmers, where she’d told them about the four houses of Hogwarts. It wasn’t until they’d parted that Beverly realized she’d never learned their names, but she was certain they’d bump into each other again eventually.

As her eyes zeroed in on two kids whose parents looked like they were  _ so _ glad to run into someone like them, the redhead girl couldn’t help but smirk. Although she immediately had to replace the smirk with something more innocent in order to ask her mum and aunt for permission to wander around for a bit, she got to do as she wished as long as she stayed in sight.

“Hello, boys,” Beverly greeted amiably as she popped up in front of them, startling the two and making the shorter, chubbier boy blush a little. The skinny black kid, however, looked like he was expecting some kind of trouble. “Are you first-year students as well?” She asked. The girl might not be the smartest person ever, but she was smart enough to know the easiest way to lower someone’s guard was to show them they had something in common.

“Yeah, we are,” the taller boy nodded warily. “I’m Lucas, and this is Ben. We’re sort of new to this.”

“Hi, Lucas and Ben, I’m Beverly,” she said and offered them her hand. “What do you think we should use against the venomous three-headed hippogriffin?” She asked casually as if they were talking about the weather.

While Ben looked like someone had just asked him to sing a Celestina Warbeck song in front of the entire school, Lucas still didn’t look like he believed such creature existed — which was smart of him. “I’m sorry, a venomous what?” He asked.

_ Tough crowd today, _ she thought.  _ Good. The more challenging the better. _ “Well, I’m not sure if that’s what we’re gonna fight yet, but I’ve narrowed down to the five most likely to—”

“Wait,” Ben interrupted, “we have to fight a  _ what _ now?”

“Has no one told you that first-year students were expected to slay a monster?” She asked incredulously.

“What?” The chubbier boy asked. Ben looked like he was about to grow a second head, while Lucas looked like  _ she _ was about to. Beverly supposed she should dial back a notch.

“Well, of course they’re not expecting each of us to do that,” she shrugged. “All of us are going to fight one monster. How do you think the sorting ceremony works?”

“We don’t even know what ‘the sorting ceremony’ is,” Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re not making all of this up?”

“So you’ve never heard of the four houses either?” Beverly raised an eyebrow, to which both boys shook their heads.

She was going to have so much fun making things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think about this? Like it? Hate it? Haven't seen your favorite character in it? Let me know in the comments.
> 
> How do you feel about that little _poem_ I left up there? Have you been able to fill in the blank? Any questions there? I'd love to hear about that as well.
> 
> Guess I'll see you again next month unless you follow something else of mine as well ;)


	2. Ollivanders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone and welcome to the next chapter of this fic.
> 
> This chapter was written after I'd written the next two, so I hope I didn't write in something that wasn't supposed to be here yet lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

Andrea Uris had taken her son to London as soon as she could, and Stan was extremely grateful for that. Of course, a professor from his new school was tagging along and explaining stuff to them as well, but the boy kept his distance and tried not to interact with the guy too much since he didn’t want to be the teacher’s pet before the school year even began.

His dad, Don Uris, was still adjusting to the fact that Stan was a wizard. After all, he didn’t think there was a chapter called  _ ‘What to Do When Your Son Is a Wizard’ _ in the Rabbi manual. His mum, being a teacher, had been more open to new concepts, so she’d been helping him prepare for school. Stan didn’t understand this world of wizards either, but school was something he was familiar with. Studying was something he was good at, and when his dad finally came to terms with this, he would be able to give the man a reason to be proud of him. Learning about this world was definitely the most effective way to prepare for school, so he’d planned to drag home at least three books that weren’t on the required list.

However, the first and most important thing he needed — or the second thing if he counted wizard money to be the first — was a wand. Therefore, as soon as his mum had finished exchanging normal money — or as the professor had called, Muggle money — to wizard money, the wand shop was their first stop.

“Good day, Professor Brenner,” the store owner greeted them as they walked in.

“Good day, Mr. Ollivander,” the professor nodded at the short old man with wide pale eyes shining like moons behind a pair of glasses. “I’m here today for this new student,” he said, gesturing towards the young boy. “As you might have guessed, Mr. Stanley Uris here needs a wand.”

The old man — Mr. Ollivander — looked quite old and weak, as if a light breeze was all it’d take to knock him over. However, as his boney fingers reached out and took Stan’s wrist, dragging him further inside, the boy noticed that the man was a lot stronger than he appeared to be.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, my boy,” he hummed. “There’s no better place to get a wand than at Ollivanders. My family has been the best wandmakers in England since we came here with the Romans.”

Stan wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He certainly didn’t want to go  _ ‘oh that sounds fascinating’ _ since he didn’t want to know the full history of a wand-making shop, but this guy was going to sell him a wand soon, and he didn’t want to be rude. Luckily for him, Mr. Ollivander didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer, as he pulled out a long tape measure and started taking his measurement. If he was looking at himself from outside the window, he’d think the old man was about to make him a suit.

“My dear Mr. Uris,” the man said, “in this world, your wand is your identity. It is a part of you, and it is the only identification you’ll ever need.” The man turned around and started to walk towards one of his shelves, but his tape measure was still swirling around Stan, taking weird measurements such as the length of his nose or the distance from the tip of his finger to his palm. “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Uris. Like your professor’s over there. Cedar wand with dragon heartstring, nine inches and three quarter. Is that right, Professor?”

Professor Brenner gave the shop owner a polite nod but refrained from joining the conversation.

“So how do I pick a wand?” Stan asked. He wondered if there was a manual or a catalog to help him with this.

“You don’t just choose a wand, silly boy,” Mr. Ollivander laughed and returned with a box in his hand, “the wand chooses you. That’s enough,” he said, and his tape measure dropped onto the floor. “Try this.” The old man put a wand in his hand.

The young boy raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know how he was supposed to  _ try _ a wand. “Abracadabra?” He said and waving it around. Nothing happened.

Mr. Ollivander shook his head and immediately took the wand from Stan, replacing it with another one. “How about this?” The curly-haired boy tried to raise it again, but the wandmaker snatched it away before he could even do anything. “No, not this one either,” he mumbled.

For the next couple of minutes, he was given no less than a dozen different wands, each and every single one of them felt like a drumstick in his hand. However, he must’ve made some kind of progress, since every time the shop owner replaced one stick with another, he always let out a satisfied hum.

“Yes,” Mr. Ollivander mumbled as he put another one in his hand. “Try this one. Thirteen and a half inches of beautiful fir wood and dragon heartstring. Brittle.”

The moment Stan’s fingers wrapped around the wand, he immediately knew it was different from the others. A warm tingling feeling coursed through his veins, flowing into his hand. The moment he raised his arm, tiny red sparks flew out from the tip of the wand like he was holding a magical sparkler. The young boy could immediately feel what the wandmaker had talked about — he had no doubt that no other wands would be able to give him this feeling. He could hear his mum’s applause from behind him, and he was about to turn around and grin at her, when he caught something in the store owner’s eyes. It was only there for a very brief moment, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Stan had a feeling that the old man was withholding something. However, as he blinked, that look in the man’s eyes was gone, and there was only satisfaction there.

For all the trouble, Mr. Ollivander sold him the wand for seven Galleons.

 

* * *

 

This was the first time Eddie went to Diagon Alley without having to lie to his mother.

The other times when Zach and Sharon had felt sorry for him and taken him here with their children, he’d only told his mom that he’d spent the day with the Denbroughs. Technically, he hadn’t lied, but he hadn’t been truthful either. However, it was impossible for him to hide his books and robes and basically everything he needed for school, so earlier today, he’d yelled out that he was going to Diagon Alley with Bill’s family and run off before his mom could’ve reacted. It was very likely that there was a storm at home waiting for him, but he’d face it when he had to.

Thanks to Merlin’s blessing, the wizarding world operated differently from the real world, and he didn’t need his guardian to be there to withdraw money from Gringotts. However, the Denbroughs had kept a close eye on him, making sure he wouldn’t spend money on anything that wasn’t on the list he’d gotten. Now only if they could keep themselves from buying everything Georgie wanted, things would be a lot less chaotic.

Speaking of the tiny devil, he’d managed to get his parents to buy him another jar of U-No-Poo from the Weasleys’ shop. That meant for the next month and a half, he’d have to turn down any food or drink the kid offered him since it hadn’t ended up too well for him the last time. Who would’ve thought that behind the innocent smile and the adorable hug was the worst prankster in human history?

They’d finished getting all the things a first-year was required to have — other than the wands, since Sharon had mentioned that Mr. Ollivander’s  _ ritual _ could take anything from a couple of minutes to several hours, if the wizard was unique enough.

As soon as they stepped inside the shop, the owner immediately turned to them from the counter. “Ah, Mr. Kaspbrak and the Denbroughs,” he smiled, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I didn’t think we drew that much attention being here,” Sharon chuckled.

“What can I say? Your youngest is the most energetic person I’ve seen in a while.”

“Can you help us pick a wand for these two?” Zach asked, gesturing towards Eddie and Bill. “They’re enrolling this year.”

“Haven’t you learned anything?” The wandmaker shook his head. “I don’t help you pick a wand. I help the wands pick you.” The man drew his wand and tapped on a drawer, and two measuring tapes flew out and wrapped themselves around the two boys.

“You see, Mr. Denbrough, Mr. Kaspbrak,” he said and started walking towards a shelf, “each wand in my shop is made from the wood of a certain tree, and contains one magical core, be it the heartstrings of dragons, the feathers of phoenix, or the tail hairs of unicorns.” The old man waved his wand, and two boxes slowly floated down his hand. “Every wand is unique, and no two wands are the same, just as no two trees or creatures are the same. You can only be your best self when you use your own wand.”

The wandmaker slowly walked back to them and handed them the two boxes. “They are more than just wands. They are you. They’re your body, your arm. Try them.”

Eddie and Bill both took out the wands and gave them an experimental wave. Almost immediately, half of the boxes on all the shelves to their left flew towards them, and they could barely manage to cover their faces.

“Not those, then,” Mr. Ollivander mumbled and took the wands away. “You’re quite fierce, aren’t you, Mr. Kaspbrak? I bet this would suit you better,” he said and handed Eddie another wand, and the young boy immediately knew this wand had chosen him. Holding the wand felt empowering, as if he could finally stand tall to defend himself, as if his mother’s years of manipulation was suddenly gone, and that he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. The shorter boy flicked his wrist, and a cool breeze suddenly appeared out of nowhere, relieving everyone of the hot summer air in the shop.

“Just as I expected,” the wandmaker nodded. “Yew and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches, stiff. It’s a perfect fit.”

Eddie’s smile grew wider as he tried to flick his wand once more, this time in a different way than the last. Instantly, all the wands that had been disturbed during their first attempt returned to their respective boxes, and those boxes slowly flew back to their old position — all but one box which was still hovering in front of them.

Mr. Ollivander stared at the box for a brief moment before clearing his throat. “Mr. Denbrough,” he said, “I believe that wand is waiting for you.”

Bill furrowed his brow at the man before turning to Eddie with a quizzical look, which he could only return with a shrug. He wasn’t even sure what he’d just done, and he doubted that if he could just summon the right wand like that, they wouldn’t have needed to try the first two wands.

The redheaded boy carefully took the box that was hovering in mid-air and took the wand inside it. Eddie could see it in his best friend’s eyes the moment magic stopped moving in a directionless manner and started being channeled in the right way. It was like Bill had finally learned to see the true beauty of the world. He briefly wondered if he’d also looked like that just moments ago. Bill made a wand movement Eddie couldn’t recognize, and a tiny ball of fire appeared in front of them, just hovering like a flaming Christmas ornament being held by an invisible string. At first, Eddie had thought the wand movement had been random, but after a brief consideration, he wondered whether it had been the wand’s idea to move like that. After all, if the wand chose the wizard, then the wand could theoretically be capable of something like that.

“Bravo! Yes, very good,” Mr. Ollivander cried. “Blackthorn and phoenix feather, thirteen inches and three quarter, quite flexible. You two are going to get along excellently.”

“What just happened?” Zach asked as he drew out his wand and dispelled both Bill’s ball of fire and Eddie’s wind. “I don’t think I’ve heard about anything like that before.”

“Like I have been saying, Mr. Denbrough,” the wandmaker smiled, “a wand chooses its wizard. I guess that wand must’ve really wanted your son.”

“So I take that it’s normal?” Sharon inquired.

“Oh, no, not at all,” the old man shook his head. “It’s very unusual, but not unheard of. You shouldn’t worry about that. This is marvelous! Extraordinary!”

Based on the man’s reaction, Eddie didn’t think he’d seen anything like this in his entire life at all. However, there was no reason for the guy to lie when he told them not to worry, so they each paid for their wands before leaving with the last item on the list.

 

* * *

 

This summer had been one of the most bizarre times in Garrick Ollivander’s life.

At the beginning of the summer, one of his old friends in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had informed him that a rare wand had been brought to England — elmwood with White River Monster spine core, thirteen inches and one quarter, supple. This particular wand was extremely rare because according to rumors, Thiago Quintara, the only person with the knowledge of how to make a wand with that core, or even how to obtain the core, had taken it to his grave. However, according to his source, the wand had been made recently as a gift for someone who had just gotten accepted to Hogwarts, so there was no doubt that someone alive knew how to make it. He just wanted to talk to the wandmaker, as one wand enthusiast to another. Of course, it would be more than splendid if the person decided to share that secret with him, but it wasn’t his ultimate goal.

Then there was another rumor floating around about a pair of twin core wands entering England as well — however, this time they were Thunderbird tail feather. Unlike with the other wand, with this pair, he was more interested in the owners, especially after what had happened to the last pair of twin core wand owners — the pair that he’d sold.

Finally, among the wands Garrick had sold this year, there had been seven special wands — or at least, he believed they were special. If he told this to anyone, maybe other than some wand enthusiasts extremely close to him, they would probably lock him up in St. Mungo’s. He believed they were special because in most cases, when he’d finally found a wand compatible with the wizard or witch, said wand would usually demonstrate their power with a harmless charm — or in very rare cases, with very aggressive wands and owners, an easy-to-counter jinx, and that would be it. However, these seven wands, when they had finally met their wizards, had radiated something.

Now, in reality, there was a good chance that he’d been mistaken and they hadn’t actually done anything out of the ordinary, since there hadn’t been any solid proof. However, he was confident he’d surrounded himself with wand magic for long enough to notice the slight shift in the air. There had been no names for it, since there had been no reports of any incidents like this. For all he knew, they could’ve either radiated their powers, sung a song, or intimidated the other wands — all of them would’ve been equally likely to happen. However, during the demonstration of the wands' connection to their owners, one of the unclaimed had answered another wand's call — something he'd never seen in his life before. One could argue that they were just coincidences, but when someone had seen enough, they stopped believing in coincidences.

The cores of the seven wands he’d sold had also been quite interesting. Among those seven, three wands had unicorn tail hairs, three had dragon heartstrings, and only one had phoenix feather. The phoenix wand had been the wand to reply to the call of another wand, and Bill Denbrough had been the owner of it. The three unicorn wands consisted of a black walnut wand that belonged to Jonathan Byers' little brother, an alder wand that belonged to a sweet muggleborn named Mike Hanlon, and a rowan wand that belonged to one Ben Hanscom. Hanscom’s friend, Lucas Sinclair, had also gotten one of the seven wands, but it had been an ebony wand with dragon heartstring core, the same core as the wands of Stan Uris and Eddie Kaspbrak. He had no doubt that this connection meant something, but he had no idea what that something was. After all, seven was a magical number.

The door to his shop opened once again, and Garret turned around to a pair of blue eyes looking at him. “Hello?” The kid said.

He knew this kid. Well, not  _ knew _ knew, but he’d sold a wand to the kid’s mother years ago, and he’d been expecting the mom to bring this kid around sometime soon.

“Mr. Dustin Henderson,” Garrick smiled, “I’ve been expecting you. Where’s your mother?”

“She was helping the other parents choose the robes, so I told her I’d come here first,” the young boy answered. “Are you Mr. Ollivander?”

“Yes, I am,” the old man smiled, “and I’m the best wandmaker in England. I suppose that’s why you’re here?” He tapped the tape measure on the counter, and the thing immediately rushed to the young boy, trying to get all the data anyone could think of.

There was a secret that he’d never told anyone before: he didn’t need any of those data. The tape measure didn’t help him choose the next wand for the kids at all. However, young eleven-year-olds tended to stay still if someone was taking their measurements, and therefore there would be less chance of the kids touching wands that clearly didn’t want them and inadvertently tearing down the entire shop. 

Garrick Ollivander took another quick look at the kid. He looked bright, and he had enough of a sense of independence to come here without his mom. Ollivander could give him a wand in that general direction and let the wand tell him what they were looking for that the kid didn’t have. This method had never failed to connect a wand to the suitable wizard or witch, and at least half of the time, it had yielded results in ten tries or less. His hand hovered on top of a box.  _ Just as good as any around it. _ “How about this one?” He turned around and asked, putting a box in the kid’s hands.

As the young Henderson kid picked up the wand, he could see it — the way his eyes widened as the wand unlocked a more effective way to concentrate his magic. He’d managed to find the right wand in one move. It hadn’t been the first time he’d done that, but that definitely did not happen often enough for it not to be celebrated.

The kid started moving his wand, and a thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. And Ollivander could feel it again. He could feel the faint something radiating from the boy and the wand, just like the seven he'd been thinking about.

“Fascinating,” he whispered. “Extraordinary. And intriguing. Very intriguing indeed.”

“Intriguing?” The Henderson kid asked. “What’s so intriguing?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if his mind had made everything up, or if he’d actually felt that, but since apparently, nobody else could feel it, that didn’t really matter anyway. “Beech and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, quite flexible. Take good care of that wand.”

As the boy paid for his new companion and left, Ollivander’s head couldn’t stop thinking about how there were now eight wands like that — the eighth one belonged to Dustin Henderson. Seven was a magical number, but eight, he didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t mean anything at all, or maybe he would find more wands like those, and everything would make sense later.

And the charm the boy’s wand had showcased… He could’ve been wrong, but that had looked and felt like a Patronus Charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Let me know in the comments below.
> 
> I still haven't been able to write anything new, so everything I post has been written sometime before July. That's why a certain fic hasn't been updated like I'd promised, yet some other fics have.
> 
> What house do you think each of them will be in? Which do you think Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Billy are in? Leave me your thoughts and opinions on that as well.
> 
> Finally, I've introduced you to eight of the wands. Any Potterhead out there wanna discuss that with me? I've been having that on my notes for like 8 months.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and welcome to the next chapter of Lucky Number 13!
> 
> Haven't been able to finish a chapter in a while so I really need to change that real soon because I'm almost out of things I'd written in advance.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Will’s heart was threatening to jump out of his chest as he pushed his cart around King’s Cross Station. Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d come to this place — in fact, it had been his fifth time — this would be the first time he pushed a cart towards the stone pillar. He would walk through that pillar for the first time without his mother holding his hand. Most importantly, after crossing to the other side, he wouldn’t be coming back home with his mom. For someone who’d never spent more than 12 consecutive hours away from his mother, this would be a huge step for him.

He shot a quick glance towards his mom. She was chiding Jonathan for leaving something at home. It must’ve been something important, since she’d been scolding him for half an hour now. However, he couldn’t quite recall what it was, and he doubted he’d heard it in the first place. It felt like there was an invisible bubble around his head, and everyone’s words couldn’t get through it. Even worse, he felt like he was running out of air inside this bubble, and he had no idea how to burst it. His knuckles turned white as his grip on the cart became tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, there was a warm hand on his, and Will let out a shaky breath. He slowly turned around and was met with the warm dark-brown eyes of a raven-haired boy about his height. The boy’s skin was quite pale, which made the freckles on his face quite visible, but not in a bad way. The kid looked worried.  _ About me. _

“Hey,” the boy said softly, “are you okay?”

The brown-haired boy could feel some color returning to his face, but his fingers were still quite cold. Nonetheless, he nodded at the kid, since he didn’t want to cause anyone trouble.

“You don’t look too good,” the boy said, turning to him completely, “and your hands are cold.” Will knew it was just a neutral comment, but he still felt embarrassed, as if he’d been caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t have. The hazel-eyed boy nervously looked down to his shoes.

“If you want to talk about it, I promise I won’t make fun of you,” the other boy said with a calming voice. “Talking about it might help.”

Will nodded sheepishly and bit his lips before shooting his mom a glance. Her attention was still on Jonathan.

“I’ve never been away from my mom before,” he said quietly, not daring to look at the other boy. He was eleven years old, and he was afraid of leaving his mom. Well, he guessed it wasn’t leaving his mom what he was afraid of, but more of the uncertainty of this world he was about to enter. He’d spent his whole life in the non-magical community. He knew how things worked there. This was a whole new territory for Will in every possible way. Furthermore, he wasn’t even sure if he would have his brother by his side. Jonathan had told him about the Hogwarts houses, how it would be like his new family. He was afraid that would mean losing Jonathan if he didn’t get sorted into Ravenclaw — his brother’s house. Everything about this was terrifying, and at the moment, his mom was too preoccupied with his brother to calm him down.

“Oh,” the boy said, and Will braced himself for the laugh that would inevitably come when someone heard that an eleven-year-old was afraid of leaving his mom. Except it never came. “That’s fine,” the boy assured him. “I’m pretty nervous, too. But look at it this way, you’ll make new friends. Learn new things. Exciting things. And you can still write to your mom every day, even during the weekend.”

It would be a lie if Will said the other boy’s excitement didn’t affect him just a little, but he was definitely still too nervous. “What if I can’t make new friends?” He asked sheepishly. “Kids don’t generally like me.”

“Well,  _ I _ like you, and I’m a kid, aren’t I?” The boy asked with a grin.

“Y-You do?” Will’s heart skipped a beat. This was the first time in his life another kid had said anything like that to him.

“Of course!” The other boy nodded enthusiastically. “Do you want to be my friend?”

Once again, that had been the first time he’d ever heard something like that, so it had taken Will a moment to realize he needed to reply to the raven-haired boy. He nodded eagerly and a smile started forming on his lips. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.”

“Cool! My name’s Mike, short for Michael,” the other boy introduced himself. “Only my mom calls me Michael.”

“I’m Will,” he replied, “short for William. Nobody calls me William.”

“Nice to meet you, Will,” Mike beamed at him. “Do you want to race to the other side?”

And just like that, all the fear, the nervousness, the insecurities he’d been having vanished as if someone made them go away with a spell. He thought Mike might’ve with those seven words.

 

* * *

 

Dustin was eternally grateful that his mom wouldn’t be joining him on the train. Not that he didn’t like her, but it was bad enough for a new kid to have a professor as a parent, he didn’t want to know what the others would’ve said to him if said professor had decided to babysit him the entire way to Hogwarts. Half a dozen students had gone shopping for school with him and his mom, and even more students had seen him with his mom earlier. Since word traveled incredibly fast around here, this was going to be the ninth door he opened on his quest to find somewhere to sit, since somehow everyone just assumed that he would rat them out to his mom at his earliest convenience if somehow he became their friends and they did something bad.

There were two kids in this cabin, one skinny black boy, and one chubby white kid, who both looked like they were a little lost. He guessed they were first-years just like him, and possibly muggle-borns. “Hi,” he greeted the occupants, “can I join you guys?” He figured since there were only two of them, he could skip the whole  _ ‘is this seat available’ _ routine since the two questions pretty much meant the same thing.

“Uh, sure,” the skinny boy nodded.

“Wait, really?” Dustin’s eyes widened. “Thanks a lot! You have no idea how difficult it is for me to find an available cabin.”

“Why?” The other boy asked. “I didn’t think it was that crowded.”

The curly-haired boy halted his movement.  _ These two don’t know, _ he thought. It would be extremely awkward if he came inside only to have to drag his stuff out again because they didn’t want to sit with him. “Well, I guess they just don’t like sitting with a professor’s son,” he said sheepishly, carefully observing the two in front of him.

“Wait, what?” Both boys’ eyes widened. “Your parent is a professor at Hogwarts?”

Dustin had expected something similar to that reaction, but not quite. He’d expected them to be more…  _ disgusted _ by that. After all, that had been the general reaction he’d gotten today. Instead, these two boys were looking at him like he was their savior. Slowly and carefully, he nodded his head, still half expecting for a prank. The boys immediately pulled him and his stuff into the cabin, to his confusion.

“You  _ have _ to know how to kill a three-headed hippogriffin, right?” The chubby boy asked.

_ This is it. This is the prank. _

“I’m sorry, a what?” The curly-haired boy asked. Understandably, by now he was regretting coming inside.

“A three-headed hippogriffin,” the first boy repeated. “We heard that all of us have to kill one for the sorting ceremony.”

“By who, exactly?” Dustin raised an eyebrow. “Who told you guys that?”

“A girl we met at Diagon Alley,” the second boy said sheepishly. “She told us about the sorting ceremony and the four houses, and what we have to do.”

“And I’m guessing everyone you know is a Muggle?” He couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. This girl, whoever she was, was really evil for scaring these two like that.

“What’s a Muggle?” The black boy frowned.

“This is gonna be a long conversation,” the curly-haired boy groaned. “What did she tell you?”

The door suddenly opened, interrupting their conversation. On the other side was a redhead girl who, Dustin suspected, was in the same situation he’d just been in. “Hi guys, can I jo— Wait, Lucas? Ben?”

The blue-eyed boy raised an eyebrow. Apparently, the two boys’ names were Lucas and Ben, and apparently, the girl knew them. However, the boys’ reactions were what caught his attention. One of them was looking at her with wide eyes as if he’d just been caught saying something behind her back, and the other was glaring daggers at her. It didn’t take a lot of efforts to connect the girl to the one that had played a prank on them.

“So, I’m guessing you’re the one who told them about the hippogriffin?” He asked with an amused tone.

“Oh, so they told you?” The girl chuckled and slid inside. “Sorry, boys, but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she said and sent the other two a wink.

“I must admit, that  _ was _ a little funny,” he agreed, “but what else did you tell them? I’m gonna undo the damage.”

“I might have given them false history lessons about the four houses,” the girl stuck out her tongue. “It’s safe to forget everything I told you, boys.”

The curly-haired boy chuckled and turned back to the other boys. “So I’m guessing you two are Lucas and Ben? Which of you is which?”

The skinny teen was now shooting both of them wary looks. “I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair. He’s Ben Hanscom.”

“Well, hello Lucas Sinclair and Ben Hanscom, I’m Dustin. Dustin Henderson,” he said with a grin.

“Wait,” the redhead interrupted him. “Henderson? As in Professor Claudia Henderson?”

Dustin winced. “Yeah, that’s my mom. Definitely didn’t help me become one of the popular kids.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” the girl smiled sadly. “I’m Beverly Marsh, but you can call me Bev.”

The curly-haired boy raised an eyebrow. “Marsh, huh?”

Beverly shot him a challenging look. “Yeah. Marsh. Got a problem with that?”

Dustin was certain that he and anyone who grew up in his world knew about the infamous Alvin Marsh — the crazy guy that had tortured Muggles with an unforgivable curse. If this girl was indeed his daughter, then no wonder she couldn’t find a cabin to sit. “Nah. You seem cool, Beverly Marsh,” he flashed her a grin.

Someone cleared their throat, and the two of them turned to see the other boys staring at them.

“Sorry to interrupt your moment,” Lucas scowled, “but some of us still need you to explain everything about the sorting ceremony.”

“Oh, right,” Dustin chuckled. “Where should I begin? Once upon a time, there were four great founders…”

 

* * *

 

Mikey’s new friend was nice and incredibly easily impressed, as Richie had found out. Plus, their mom seemed to get along with Will’s mom as well, but that could’ve been because the woman was the nicest person he’d ever met. Nancy also recognized Will’s brother since apparently, the Ravenclaw boy had interviewed her last year when writing the article about the Gryffindor quidditch team for the school newspaper. Mikey had told him that if the people in the photo hadn’t been moving, their mom would’ve framed the article and hung it in the living room. Neither of them had pointed out that although she did love Nancy and was definitely proud of her daughter, if she’d done that, it would’ve been so that she could brag to her friends more easily. The woman cared too much about what others thought of her.

They’d been dragging their stuff around for a while, since due to an unexpected event that had absolutely nothing to do with Richie trying to cast a spell with his new wand, their trunks had decided to eject all their stuff, and they’d had to manually collect everything. That meant most cabins didn’t have space for three more kids anymore, and Mikey was considering shoving him in the trunk.

Lucky for him, the next door he opened only had two people behind it. “Look! This one’s available,” he said cheerfully as he turned to his brother. The two occupants — a dark-haired girl and a blond boy — stared at them.

“I’m so sorry about my brother,” Mikey winced, “but we’ve been looking for a cabin for a while now. Can we join you guys?”

“Sure,” the girl nodded, and all three of them sighed in relief since their first quest was finally over. 

As they stumbled inside, Richie realized that neither of their new acquaintances talked much. He wondered whether they’d been staring at each other the whole time, or this new silence was due to the new addition to their cabin. Either way, if there was something his friends — or Mikey, since he didn’t have any friends yet — knew about him, it was that he  _ always _ felt the need to break the silence.

“Ello guvna,” he greeted in a horrible British accent that made Mikey elbowed him in the stomach. “Richie Tozier’s my name, and doing voices is my game. Now, what do I call you?”

Both new kids turned to look at him as if they were trying to make sure he was talking to them. That meant his assumption about awkward staring was probably true.

“Stan,” the boy finally said. “Stanley Uris.”

“Nice to meet you, Staniel,” Richie beamed at the boy, who immediately scowled at the nickname.

“Stanley,” Stan repeated.

“Yeah, he’s not gonna stop using that nickname,” Mikey sighed and smiled at the boy. “I’m Mike Wheeler. Nice to meet you.”

“You have different last names,” the girl pointed out.

“I have my stepdad’s last name,” Mikey explained. “Long story. What about you?”

“El,” she said and provided no further explanation.

“El?” Richie asked, and the girl nodded. “So, just El?” She nodded again. “What? Is it like just Beyoncé or just Wong?”

“Richie!” Mikey groaned, but he could hear Will’s soft chuckle and could see Stan’s lips twitched as the boy rolled his eyes. At least he knew the kid wasn’t a stone cold killer or anything. El, however, shot them all a confused look. The raven-haired boy’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?” He asked, to which the girl just shook her head. Somehow, although technically she’d spoken more words than Stan, he felt like there was no possible way for someone to talk less than her. “You don’t know anything about No-Majes, do you?” He asked again, and the girl shook her head once more.

“No-Majes?” Will inquired. “What’s that?”

“It’s the American term for Muggles,” Mikey explained.

“What’re Muggles?” This time, it was Stan who’d asked the question.

“A Muggle is a non-magical person,” Will explained. “My brother told me that. Our mom is a Muggle.”

“And from that question, Staniel,” Richie grinned, “I’m guessing your parents are Muggles as well.”

“And that’s bad because…?” The curly-haired boy raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not bad,” Mikey shook his head. “That just means you guys don't know a lot about this world, since your parents don’t. But that doesn’t make you any less a wizard. Some of the best wizards are muggle-borns. Our Minister is one.”

“And sometimes, not knowing things is better,” Richie smirked mischievously, “that way, you can use it as an excuse whenever you break a rule or something.”

“We’re not even at school yet and you’re already thinking about breaking rules,” Mikey sighed.

“Is he always like this?” Stan asked.

“Unfortunately,” his brother nodded.

“Aw, you love me, lil bro,” Richie cooed and tried to ruffle Mikey’s hair as the other boy swatted his hand away.

“I’m not the little brother!” His twin protested. “You are.”

“Come on, I’m even taller than you,” Richie stuck out his tongue.

“No, you’re not,” Mikey glared at him.

“What’s this about?” Stan turned to Will.

“Apparently, they don’t know who’s older,” the brown-haired boy chuckled. “Their mom said they bicker about that a lot.”

“We do not!” Richie and Mikey said in unison. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

Will let out another chuckle, while El and Stan only rolled their eyes. That was when they both saw it — placed carefully on the train seat, next to the girl.

“Can I see your wands?” Mikey asked, and the other three shot him questioning looks.

“Sorry,” Richie grinned, “Mikey and I are both kind of wand nerds, and yours doesn’t look like anything Ollivander would make. As you might’ve noticed, we’re in England, so your American-made wand is a rare deal.”

El said nothing as she passed her wand to the twins and watched them with mild amusement.

“Hornbeam wand, eleven inches,” Mikey hummed. “A bit rigid,” he said before passing the wand to Richie. His brother had been raised by their No-Maj mom, so he didn’t have a lot of chances to touch a real wand. That was why he’d spent all his nerdy time on recognizing different wand woods from the photos in the books. Richie, on the other hand, had been taught a simple spell that could tell him enough about the core of a wand. His part might’ve sounded cooler, and Mikey would think it was the cooler part, but Richie truly believed that Mikey had mastered the better half of their party trick, since wand wood could tell you about a wizard’s personality more than wand core ever could.

“Wait, really?” Richie whispered,surprised. He’d mumbled the spell his dad had taught him, and the wand was now leaking liquid moonlight. The color of the light wasn’t one he recognized, so it wasn’t one of the more common cores. However, he’d read about this effect before. At the time, he’d thought that the book had exaggerated it, since there was no way something could look like that, but here he was, being proven wrong. The wand owner was looking quite amused at Richie’s surprised expression. She was probably expecting just that.

“Horned Serpent horn,” he and the girl said simultaneously.

“Wait, really?” This time it was Mikey who’d asked the question, which was understandable. That was an extremely rare and extremely expensive wand core, and he didn’t know if anyone in the world still made them. Once upon a time, there might’ve been.

“A present from my dad,” the girl said with a shrug. “Guess you guys will know this when the Sorting Ceremony begins anyway. My full name is Jane Eleanor Hopper.”

_ Of fucking course, _ Richie thought.  _ She just has to be Jane Eleanor Hopper, daughter of Auror James fucking Hopper. _ No wonder why she didn’t want to tell them her last name. Being a daughter of a renowned auror must’ve meant she was under a lot of pressure, just not from her family. 

“Way to steal the spotlight, El,” Richie joked. It was clear as day that she didn’t want to be known as the daughter of an auror, so as her newly-made friend, he would make her feel like anything but. “Although, you’re not the only one with rare wand core around here. Show her, Mikey.”

“Do we have to?” His brother groaned.

“Well, I’m going to, so you might as well because I’m sure Will is curious,” Richie said, and Mikey was immediately met with the brown-haired boy’s eager smile.

“Fine,” he sighed and took out his wand to Richie’s amusement.  _ That’s some neat trick I’m gonna use in the future. _ “Ashwood, thirteen inches and one quarter, slightly yielding,” his brother said.

“Spruce wand, fourteen inches,” Richie said as he took out his own. “Really flexible,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “But the most important part, both our cores are Thunderbird tail feathers. From the same bird.”

“Both of them?” El asked, and Richie had a shit-eating grin as he nodded.

“Is that rare or something?” Will said before biting his lips. “Sorry, I don’t really know a lot about these things.”

“It’s alright,” Mikey chuckled. “Not a lot of people know about this. But yeah, it’s really rare for two wand cores to come from the same source, no matter what it is. That’s usually what makes each wand unique.”

“So you’re saying your wands aren’t unique?” Stan raised an eyebrow.

“How  _ dare _ you, Stanathan?” Richie huffed. “That makes our wands even more unique. Harry Potter’s wand also shared the same core with the Dark Lord.”

“Who and who now?” The blond boy asked.

“Okay, history lesson time,” Richie said, rubbing his hands together.

 

* * *

 

Max never thought she’d have such a good time with a bunch of boys. She never thought she’d have a good time with  _ any _ boy, for that matter, and she was pleasantly surprised.

The girl had ended up in a cabin with three other people, and had quickly warmed up to them. Bill Denbrough was the oldest child in the house with both parents working as Obliviators for the Ministry. He also had a lovely brother, according to his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie’s dad was Frank Kaspbrak, a brave auror who had given his life in the line of duty, and his Muggle mom didn’t want him to learn anything about magic. Neither Eddie nor Bill wanted to elaborate on the boy’s family. Mike Hanlon was a sweet kid, whose parents were farmers that were extremely proud that their son was a wizard. He had the warmest smile Max had ever seen, and she had a feeling she’d like to see that more often.

They had arrived at Hogsmeade. According to Bill, this was the only all-wizarding village in Britain, so they didn’t have to hide their magic around No-Majes. That was probably why nobody raised any question when seeing one hundred kids in wizard robes walking towards the lake.

“Beverly!” Someone put a hand on her shoulder, and Max turned around to a curly-haired boy with widened eyes because he’d mistaken her for someone else.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he retracted his hand. “I thought you were—”

“She looks nothing like Beverly,” another voice said, and a black boy showed up behind the first boy, scowling at him.

“Well, I said I saw a  _ glimpse _ of her,” the first boy scoffed. “I didn’t say I saw her.”

“What exactly did you see then?” The second boy huffed. “Because the only thing they have in common from behind is red hair, but her hair is  _ way _ longer than Bev’s.”

“That’s why I said  _ glimpse, _ Lucas!”

“I’m sorry about them,” a third voice drew her attention away from the two boys to a shorter, chubbier boy who looked like he was out of breath from running after his friends. “They’ve been bickering for a while now. We lost our friend Beverly. Have you seen a redhead with short hair?”

“Well, I have a redhead with short hair, but I don’t think that’s who you’re looking for,” Max chuckled and gestured at Bill, who had stopped with Eddie and Mike when she turned around.

“I— Uh, sorry,” the boy bit his lips, his face flushed and he started backing away. “Sorry for bothering you guys.”

“Wait,” Mike said, halting the third boy in his tracks as well as stopping the first two’s bickering. “We can help you find your friend,” he smiled. “The more eyes, the better, right?”

The three boys nodded sheepishly at the offer. “Thanks,” the first boy said. “I’m Dustin, and this is Lucas and Ben.”

“The redhead you mistook for Beverly is Max,” Max said with a smirk. “The redhead you’re not looking for is Bill. The nice one who just offered our service to you is Mike. The little one is Eddie.”

“I swear, Max,” Eddie grumbled. “Stop calling me that.”

“Anyway,” Bill cleared his throat. “Do you have any more detailed descriptions?”

“We’re all wearing robes, Bill,” the second boy — Lucas — raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re gonna stare into someone’s eyes, that’s the only useful one.”

“That and she’s about Max’s height,” Ben said sheepishly.

“See, Lucas?” Dustin huffed. “There was more than just red hair.”

“Find your friend first, bicker later,” Max snapped her fingers. “Let’s go.”

As they walked together, Max learned that Ben was also a really sweet boy, although she doubted anyone could be as sweet as Mike. He was telling Bill and Eddie that Beverly — the girl they were looking for — had tricked him and Lucas into believing they had to slay a beast to get sorted into the four houses. The girl seemed fun in her opinion. According to what she’d heard, Dustin and Lucas had only met each other on the train, but from the constant bickering, they were already either mortal enemies or best friends.

“Guys?” Mike called out. “Is your friend the one following that group of kids?”

Max also saw it. A redhead about her height was following a group of five. She doubted those were the friends since the girl would’ve called out if that had been the case.

“Shit, what is she doing?” Dustin cursed under his breath. The boy had probably come to the same conclusion.

“Let’s not wait to find out, shall we?” Max said before quickly squeezing through the crowd to try and get to the group. That looked like trouble, and she wasn’t a huge fan of violence. That was more in her shitty stepbrother’s territory.

They got to the group of five just as Beverly put her hand on one of their shoulders, alerting them of her presence.

“Beverly!” Dustin exclaimed as he rushed towards her. “What are you doing?”

Other than Beverly’s group and Max’s group, none of the others bothered to stop and see what this was all about. The group of five consisted of a dark-haired girl and four boys, and two of them were twins. If she was being honest, if there was a fist fight, those four boys would go down extremely easily — none of them looked anything like her stepbrother.

“Can I help you?” The girl asked.

“Yeah,” Beverly nodded. “I heard your friends mentioned that your dad is Auror Hopper, right?”

Dustin took in a sharp breath as if that information explained everything and that  _ everything _ wasn’t good. Max knew who the guy was — he was quite a famous auror, after all. But even if it were true, she didn’t know if the daughter of the infamous auror had anything to do with anything.

“What if I am?” The girl raised an eyebrow.

“I’m Beverly Marsh,” Beverly introduced herself, and this time, the gasping reaction was more universal. The infamous Auror Jim Hopper was well known to everyone for capturing the crazy Muggle torturer Alvin Marsh. If these two were who they said they were, then things were about to go down.

Max could see the twins reaching for their wands. She didn’t know if they knew any useful spells, but it was apparent that they would protect their friends if things turned bad. She didn’t know whose side she should be on if something happened.

“And what do you want from me?” The girl asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I just want to express my gratitude,” Beverly said with a smile and raised her hand, surprising her, and pretty much everyone who’d been paying attention.

“Gratitude?” The auror’s daughter asked.

“Your dad locked up that crazy piece of shit, and my mom and I haven’t been hurt since then,” Beverly shrugged. “I know he didn’t do it for us specifically, but still I wanted to thank him. If you could tell him that, it’d be great.”

Max took a quick look around. Other than Eddie, Bill, Dustin, the girl, and the twins, everyone else looked quite lost. She supposed she could explain it to them later.

“Thanks, I guess,” the dark-haired girl finally said with a nod and took the hand that had been offered. “I like you, Beverly Marsh.”

“I like both of you,” Max chuckled as she approached the girls, surprising them. “I’m Max. Something tells me we’re gonna be great friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Tell me in the comments below.
> 
> What do you think about the characters? Did I do them justice? Tell me below as well.
> 
> Next chapter will feature the sorting hat :) What do you think each of their houses will be? Let me know that as well.
> 
> Until next time.


	4. The Sorting Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone and welcome to the next chapter of Lucky Number 13!
> 
> I'm posting this one earlier than usual since I suspect some people have just come back from watching IT Chapter 2 and is now looking for things to distract themselves from You-Know-What.
> 
> If you have seen it, please don't leave any spoiler comments. You're free to go spam my Tumblr dm though.
> 
> That's pretty much all I wanna say for now. Enjoy!

The narrow path they’d taken had led them to a wide lake — wide enough for his family’s whole farm to fit inside if Mike was making a comparison. The murky water gave him the feeling that something — maybe lots of something — lived somewhere deep under. The calm surface of the lake, however, reflected the magnificent view of the mountain range surrounding it, and in the middle of that mountain range stood a castle more majestic than anything he’d ever seen, be it on a screen, in a photo, or in real life. If the castle could talk, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it could, the words would probably be ancient and fill the air with authority and magic. The young boy had no doubt that it was where they were heading.

On their side of the lake, there was an array of boats waiting for them, so it wasn’t too difficult to guess how they’d reach the school.  _ This is certainly better than killing a dragon, _ he thought to himself. The girl he’d met at Diagon Alley, whose name he now learned was Beverly, and who was currently dragging Max and the other girl they’d met earlier towards one boat, had mentioned something like that, before quickly apologizing for freaking his parents out. William and Jessica Hanlon did have a sense of humor, so after the initial shock about sending their only son to certain death, they’d laughed about it and had enjoyed her company. Mike supposed it was nice to run into her again, and this time accompanied by her friends as well.

As the gigantic man leading them had informed, each boat shouldn’t be boarded by more than four people. Since the girls obviously wouldn’t be joining them, that left him, Bill, and Eddie with an empty seat, since everyone else had already grouped up on the train. They weren’t the only ones with an empty seat either. Other than the twins’ boat, which already had four people, and the girls’ boat, which had attracted another girl, the remaining group also didn’t have anyone new join them either. The vessels looked like they’d done this for hundreds of years, but something told Mike they’d all been enchanted, so he wouldn’t need to worry about sinking in the middle of a bottomless lake.

“So, which house do you want to be in?” He asked the other boys once all the boats had magically left the shore.

“I want to be in Gryffindor,” Eddie immediately answered. “I want to prove to my mom and to everyone else that I’m not a weak kid.” The short boy was staring a hole into the wooden board. “All my life she’s locked me up, treated me like there was something wrong with me, like I was sick and helpless and couldn’t take care of myself. I’m gonna make her acknowledge that I’m not.”

Bill looked at his friend sympathetically and put his arm over Eddie’s shoulder. It was clear that the boy had been terribly mistreated by his mom in the past. Mike couldn’t understand it. He came from a loving family with caring and supportive parents. He hadn’t been shown anything but understanding, love, and acceptance — not even when he’d accidentally let loose all the animals in his farm in what he’d only recently learned had been his first display of magic. He couldn’t imagine how a mother could treat her child like that.

“I don’t have a house I want to be in,” Bill shrugged, “but since both my parents were Gryffindors, I think that’s where I’ll be as well. Wouldn’t be so bad if I got to spend more time with my best friend,” the ginger boy grinned and shook his friend lightly, drawing out a soft chuckle. “What about you, Mike?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m still new to all of this. I’m just really excited to learn magic.”

“Well, you’re definitely not the only one,” Bill grinned at him. “Underaged wizards aren’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts, so none of us knew anything beforehand.”

“How do they keep track of that, anyway?” Mike asked.

“There’s a spell on all underaged wizards,” Eddie turned to him. “It sends out an alarm when someone uses magic around an underaged wizard.”

“But if that’s the case, what about when their parents use magic?” The black boy furrowed his brow.

“Yeah, that’s kind of a flaw in the system,” Eddie nodded. “The Ministry expects parents to keep their children in check.”

“But don’t tell anyone about that,” Bill said. “The Ministry didn’t hide it, but they didn’t want people to know about it either. We only know because my parents work at the Ministry and they told us one time.”

“Got it,” Mike nodded. “Also, what are we going to study at Hogwarts? I don’t suppose we’re gonna go over Maths or Biology.”

“A bunch of cool stuff,” Eddie replied. “There’s Charms, where you learn to use most of your daily spells. Transfiguration is where you learn how to turn one thing to another. We’ll learn how to duel and protect ourselves in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You can guess what we do in Potions.”

“There are also classes where you don’t need to perform magic,” Bill said, rolling his eyes at Eddie’s choice of subjects. “You can learn about plants in Herbology. History of Magic is exactly what it sounds like. Astronomy is also a familiar Muggle word. And then there are tons of other classes you can take.”

The conversation turned animated as Eddie and Bill started gushing about what they were expecting to learn in their first week.

 

* * *

 

When the boats carried them through an ivy curtain that hid a wide cave on the cliff, Lucas was impressed. This felt like the type of secret entrance to the Batcave. The long dark tunnel — some parts so dark, if Professor Hagrid hadn’t been holding an oil lamp, he would’ve thought he’d gone blind — led their boats to an underground harbor with cold wet stairs, and they all dismounted onto the slippery ground. The cavern was big enough for him not to see the roof, although, with the limited lighting, that could be anywhere from ten to several hundred metres tall. They were then instructed to follow the giant man up the narrow passageway in the rock.

“So, do any of you know which house you want to be in?” Dustin asked from behind him, but because they were walking in single file, it wasn’t the best time to turn around.

“I don’t know,” another voice answered. Lucas was fairly certain this voice belonged to one of the boys he’d met earlier named Stan. “I don’t think it matters. Whatever house I’m in won’t affect what I can study, right? At least that’s what Richie told me earlier.”

“No, but it might affect your rivalry,” Dustin replied. “You see, the four houses will compete against each other for points, and the one with the most points at the end of the year wins.”

“What do we win?” Ben asked from his spot in front of Lucas.

“Bragging rights,” another voice answered from behind them — this one belonged to one of the twins. “And pride, and the right to walk with your head held high, and a trophy. But I prefer bragging rights.”

Lucas was actually impressed that he could recognize voices that well already. They had known each other for roughly an hour, and they didn’t even know each other’s last name, yet he could tell who was speaking from their voices only.

“What if I don’t care about inter-house dick-measuring contests?” Stan asked with only  _ a hint _ of sarcasm.

“Don’t call it like that,” one of the twins answered. “I bet the girls are gonna be the most brutal in this fight.”

“You bet we are,” Bev answered from in front of Ben, “so be prepared to weep, Mikey.”

“That was Richie, not me,” the twin whom Lucas suspected was Mike huffed. “And stop calling me that!”

“Sorry, Mikey,” the other redhead — Max — snickered, “but we have another Mike around here, so suck it up.”

The other Mike didn’t say anything, but he didn’t know if it was because he was shy or because he was out of earshot.

“Why don’t we save our strength for  _ after _ we reach the castle?” Lucas suggested.

“Maybe because  _ some of us _ can multitask, Lucas,” Dustin snorted.

“Oh, I’ll show you multitasking when I—”

“Guys?” Ben said sheepishly. “Maybe wait until  _ after _ we get out of a narrow cave?”

“Anyway, what about you, Ben?” Dustin changed the subject. “Which house do you want to be in?”

“I honestly don’t know, Dustin,” Ben shrugged without looking back. “Half a day ago I still thought we’d have to fight something later.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” Bev said with no hint of regret in her voice. “What about you, Dustin? Which house do you want to be in?”

“Right now? Anything but Hufflepuff would be excellent,” the curly-haired boy replied.

Behind them, someone said something to that remark, but Lucas couldn’t make out the words. Dustin, however, could.

“I don’t have anything against the house,” the boy clarified, “but it’ll put me in a bad spot.”

They finally got out of the cave and into the green grassy yard right in front of the towering castle. The school looked even more impressive from this angle, although Lucas hoped the living quarter wasn’t in one of those tall towers. Walking up and down that every day would be a nightmare.

The students who’d gotten out of the cave once again came together in groups either from their train trip or boat ride as they walked up to a flight of stone steps to gather around a door big enough a giant could walk through without having to crouch. His group once again stood together with three other groups whose female members had decided to stick together.

“Where’s the other girl?” Lucas asked. The girls’ boat had four people earlier.

El shook her head, but it was Max who answered his question. “She left.”

“Ooh,” the twin with glasses — Richie — whistled. “Did you guys have a catfight during that little trip?”

“Shove it, Richie,” Max scoffed.

“Actually, no,” Bev shrugged. “Lily was nice, but I don’t think we’re her type.”

“So, Dustin,” Will turned to the blue-eyed boy, “why would it put you in a bad spot?”

Lucas assumed this was who Dustin had talked to before coming out of the cave. The boy was shy enough, and his voice was soft enough for the black boy to not catch his words in that long line.

Before the curly-haired boy could answer, the front door opened, and Lucas watched as the color drained from his face. “Shit!” He muttered. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Merlin’s beard, damn it!”

Since he wasn’t the only one whose eyes were on Dustin at the moment, everyone’s eyes simultaneously turned around, trying to figure out what freaked the boy out like that.

There wasn’t anything even remotely alarming in sight. In front of the castle was a witch in lavender robes. Her hair was either brown or dark blond — he couldn’t tell in this light — and she had a warm and friendly smile that looked slightly familiar. He wondered if he’d met her from somewhere.

“Oh,” Eddie whispered, “that’s—”

“Thank you, Professor Hagrid,” the woman said before turning to all of them. “Hello, students. I’m Professor Henderson.”

Lucas’ eyes widened as he turned around to the other boy, whose ears were turning red.

“Oh, shit,” he said with a mischievous grin.

 

* * *

 

The Hat had been bored for twenty-seven years now.

The last person with potential of any sort who’d worn It had been Ginevra Weasley. Of course, that year and the year before that, there had been quite a few people It had noticed. It could still feel the excitement that had coursed through every fiber of Its being when looking into the mind of that Granger kid, or the frustration It had felt arguing with the now-Professor Longbottom, and most importantly, Potter. Sometimes It liked to relive those moments — all of them, whether it be when It had first met Dumbledore or Riddle. A thousand years of existence without any way to move or experience anything interesting would do that to anyone. It had thought the new Potters would bring back the excitement, and It had been wrong.

Professor Henderson had just led a new group of students into the Great Hall, and It had just given them another song about strength and unity before splitting them into four houses and pitching them against each other — all standard stuff.

The first kid to walk towards It was Aaronson. It had sorted lots of Aaronsons throughout the years.  _ Nothing special. _ The same could be said for the next ten kids, although there was something slightly special about a Beauchamp girl. If there was nobody better this year, It would keep an eye on her. It had put her in Ravenclaw.

The next boy who walked towards It looked almost as nervous as Longbottom had been once upon a time, and the moment It touched the kid’s head, It could immediately feel something special about him.  _ Potential. _

“Well, well, well, what do we have here,” It hummed. “Byers, William.”

“H-Hello, sir?” The boy greeted back nervously.

“I put your brother in Ravenclaw two years ago,” It said slowly. “He was a much simpler case than you.”

“Uh, sorry?” The Byers kid winced.

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t be,” It said. “You’re much more interesting. I see bravery. Oh, yes, lots of bravery. But then, you’re also smart and imaginative, aren’t you? Not to mention this kindness.”

“So, what house am I in?” Byers asked.

“Not too patient, I see,” It smirked. “You are a rare case. Sometimes, not too often but not too rare, there are people that make me wonder between two houses. But more than two? There have been only six before you. Where does your heart want you to be in?”

“I don’t know?”

“So where  _ don’t _ you want to be in, then?” It asked. “Oh, don’t tell me. I already know. You don’t want to be in the same house as your brother.”

“That’s not—”

“No need to clarify,” It interrupted, “I know what you’re thinking. You love him dearly, but you don’t want to be looked after your whole life.”

The boy didn’t argue with that, and It didn’t expect him to.

“Very well, if that’s the case,” It hummed.  **GRYFFINDOR!**

The boy let out a breath and slowly walked away, towards his new table. It would definitely keep an eye on him.

About three kids later, It found another one with potential. However, this one wasn’t a Hatstall like the other. Denbrough, William. _Not afraid to charge into battle._ **GRYFFINDOR!**

By the time It found the third kid with potential, It had accepted that this would be an interesting batch of students. The last two years with more than two students like this had both been during a Potter’s first year. Maybe this year’s Potter also had potential. However, in the meantime… Hanlon, Michael. _Sweet and kind boy._ **HUFFLEPUFF!**

The next person who posed as a challenge came after two more kids, both with potential, and both extremely smart. Hanscom, Benjamin.  **RAVENCLAW!** Henderson, Dustin.  **RAVENCLAW!**

“Well, hello, young lady,” It smiled. “Hopper, Jane Eleanor. Goes by El.”

“That’s me,” the girl said.

“You are quite something,” It said. “Undoubtedly brave. Not afraid to step up and fight to protect the ones you love. However, unlike your father, you don’t follow rules.”

“Not that I don’t follow them,” the girl scoffed, “I think they’re stupid.”

“So you decided to have your own rules,” It finished the thoughts. “Interesting, indeed. Ambitious and not afraid to bypass whatever holds you down.”  **SLYTHERIN!**

The number of kids who are destined for greatness this year was mind-blowing. Kaspbrak, Edward.  **GRYFFINDOR!** Marsh, Beverly.  **SLYTHERIN!** Mayfield, Maxine.  **GRYFFINDOR!**

Unfortunately, Lily Potter didn’t have the potential It had been looking for. Another unfortunate thing about this year was, a lot of those with potentials were Hatstalls, or at least tricky enough for It to take quite some time to figure them out, which made the Sorting Ceremony  _ a lot _ longer than normal.

“Sinclair, Lucas,” It greeted. “Yet another fascinating mind.”

This boy wasn’t the talkative type, so he just sat there and listened to It’s monologue. It didn’t mind that.

“You are willing to do anything for your friends,” It hummed. “This usually puts me in a rather difficult situation.” The human mind had always been fascinating to It. After all, It had the will of all four Hogwarts founders — It could be very judgemental for a hat. “Smart, but not enough to outshine your other perks.” These cases were usually challenging because It had to decide whether the student was brave because of their own bravery, or if they were brave because their loved ones were in danger. However, It could see that this boy would put his own life in jeopardy in order to give his friends what they wanted, and that would be more…  **HUFFLEPUFF!**

The next two potential young wizards weren’t too difficult to figure out. Tozier, Richard. _A troublemaker who doesn’t let rules ruin his fun._ **SLYTHERIN!** Uris, Stanley. _A little tense, but definitely smart and wants to prove himself._ **RAVENCLAW!**

“Hmm,” It hummed as the next kid sat down and put It on his head. “Lucky number thirteen.” Another kid with potential. “Wheeler, Michael. I don’t think I’ve ever seen twins not being sorted consecutively.”

The kid just stayed quiet and waited for Its final verdict.

“Ah, yes, very smart boy,” It said in an amused tone. “And brave as well. But you’re a caring boy, aren’t you?” This was clearer than day. This boy would even jump off a cliff for someone he cared about. There was no doubt he belonged to…  **HUFFLEPUFF!**

The last kid was a boy named Worrington, but he wasn’t nearly as interesting as any of the best ones this year. That didn’t matter. It had thirteen new kids to watch.  _ Thirteen. _ That was a very powerful number. This had to mean something huge.

As Professor Flitwick carried It back to the Headmistress’ office, The Hat made a promise to keep an ear out for these kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you like this chapter? How would you put them in Hogwarts (and Ilvermorny) houses? Let me know in the comments. If you think a character should be in a different house (and with 13 characters, it's gonna surprise me if someone did exactly how I did), let me know as well. Maybe I'll keep that in mind for future fics.
> 
> Among the first year's classes, what do you think will be each character's favorite subjects? Which would be the ones they're the best at? Which would be their worst subjects? Let me know in the comments below. Also, if you think their least favorite subject should be the one they're the best at, then I would love to hear your explanation as well.
> 
> Again, please, no IT Chapter 2 spoilers, even if "everyone knows this" or "it's in the book". At least wait for a week before you start spoiling people's fun.
> 
> Until next time.


	5. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise! A new update has arrived!
> 
> This is my own punishment for breaking my updating schedule last week. You get a new chapter! You get a new chapter! Everybody gets a new chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

> **_Dear Mum and Dad,_ **
> 
> **_I’m sorry it took me so long to write you back. Everything has been a bit hectic since classes started, and I’m only now used to this new pace._ **
> 
> **_I miss you guys. How are you? I hope that without me, Dad isn’t overworking. I know you still have your strength, but we definitely can afford to hire some help. Plus, without me there watching EastEnders with Mum, you’re gonna have to step up and be the hero._ **
> 
> **_How are things at home? How are the hatchlings? It’s October now, and the heat lamps aren’t as good as before, so if it gets too cold, I think you might need to replace them. What about Bessie and Dolly? Do they miss me? I kind of hope they do, but also kind of hope they don’t, because I won’t be home anytime soon. I know you’re gonna take great care of them, but I still can’t help but worry a little. Give my best wishes to everyone there!_ **
> 
> **_In my last letter, I mentioned a couple of new friends I made when we sort of ran into each other before school before knowing we’d be in the same house. The other boy who shares the same name as me, everyone calls him Mikey. I think he only pretends to hate the nickname because that’s what his twin brother has been calling him since forever. He’s pretty cool, and he also told me and Lucas a bunch of stuff we didn’t know about this world. Lucas’ parents don’t have magic either, so he’s just as clueless as me in this._ **
> 
> **_I also made a lot of new friends from other houses as well. Mikey’s twin brother Richie is in Slytherin, and whenever we meet, he also drags along his two friends El and Beverly. Do you remember Bev? She was the one talking to us when we were at Diagon Alley. They’re extremely cool, although I have a feeling Richie and Bev are the types that’ll get us into unusual situations. Mikey and Richie have a sister in Gryffindor, and she’s really pretty._ **
> 
> **_Mikey’s best friend also joins us on most days. His name is Will, and he’s also in Gryffindor. The three friends I made on the train are all Gryffindors as well, so Max, Eddie, and Bill also tag along. Max and Eddie were Americans, but they moved here some time ago. They don’t talk about their families a lot, but I learned that Max also has a stepbrother in Slytherin. Bill’s parents work for the Ministry, so he knows a lot of stuff about what will or won’t get us in trouble. Unfortunately, Richie and Bev pay really close attention whenever that topic comes up. Will has a brother in Ravenclaw, and he thinks a lot of him._ **
> 
> **_Speaking of Ravenclaw, Lucas has two friends in that house, and I can see why Bev said that was the smart house. Dustin and Ben know a lot of things, and whatever they don’t, they’re extremely eager to learn. Sometimes they also join us with their friend Stan, but whenever they don’t, we just know they’re at the library. Dustin’s mom, Professor Henderson, teaches Transfiguration, and is the Head of Hufflepuff, so we also see her a lot. She’s really nice, though, and she was the one who told me I could send letters home by borrowing one of the owls from the school._ **
> 
> **_I have also learned a lot of cool things at Hogwarts as well. My favourite subject is Herbology. We learned about a lot of magical plants and how to take care of them. Would you mind if I brought some magic seeds back and planted them during the summer? I bet if I ask nicely, Professor Longbottom will let me have some Puffapod seeds. I’m struggling a bit with Transfiguration, but Dustin offered to help me with that. He’s really good at it, although I shouldn’t be too surprised since his mom teaches the subject, after all._ **
> 
> **_We also learned Flying using the school’s brooms. There’s even a sport that apparently everyone in the wizarding world loves called Quidditch that involves flying. It’s really cool, and I really want to join my house’s team, but Mikey said they don’t allow first-years to join. Maybe I’ll try next year._ **
> 
> **_I also mentioned the moving stairs and the randomly locked doors in my last letter. With the help of the Fat Friar, I’m proud to say I stopped getting lost because of them a couple weeks ago. Right now I think I can safely navigate around 80% of Hogwarts._ **
> 
> **_I promise to write to you guys more often than once a month, since I’m finally not too overwhelmed by everything. Halloween is two weeks away, and I heard there’s a big feast that night. I’ll make sure to give you guys updates._ **
> 
> **_Love,_ **
> 
> **_Mike._ **

 

Mike read the letter for one last time before changing into his robes and heading to the Owlery. He had spent an hour writing and rewriting this letter to his parents. In his earliest drafts, he’d gone and gushed about everything he’d learned at Hogwarts, and they had gotten way too long before he realized his parents wouldn’t have understood most of the things he’d written. It would’ve been one thing if he would’ve been there to answer their questions, but he figured he could wait till Christmas to tell them.

It was a Saturday, so most of the students were probably enjoying the comfort of their beds without the stress of having to wake up early. As a result, the normally crowded hallways were empty and quiet enough for him to hear the faint sound of birds chirping and singing somewhere outside the castle walls. Despite the long path he took from the Hufflepuff common room to the West tower, he didn’t run into a single living soul — although he  _ had _ passed by The Fat Friar. He suspected anyone awake was having breakfast in the Great Hall, so to enjoy the quiet atmosphere a bit more, he’d purposely avoided that route. However, when he got to the Owlery, he noticed someone had already gotten there before him.

“Stan?” The Hufflepuff boy asked. “What are you doing here this early?”

The other boy turned around, clearly hadn’t expected to run into anyone either. “I could ask you the same thing,” he shrugged.

“I’m here to send a letter home,” Mike said, holding up the sealed envelope. “I live on a farm, and we usually wake up very early no matter what day of the week it is. What about you?”

Stan’s eyes were on him for a moment, as if trying to see whether he was worthy enough to know this part of the boy’s life. Eventually, the curly-haired boy shrugged and turned around, facing the owls. “Birdwatching,” he said. “I used to go birdwatching every Saturday morning.”

Mike nodded, even though he was aware Stan wouldn’t be able to see it. “So now you’re here watching these owls?” He guessed.

“Not really,” the other boy replied, but refrained from elaborating. The black boy didn’t expect him to either. They’d been friends for a little over a month, so he knew that Stan wasn’t the type to open up easily. He wasn’t like Eddie, who obviously didn’t want to talk about his family because that topic made him uncomfortable. From his controlled expressions, he gathered that Stan was the type who wouldn’t show his true self to anyone other than a selected few. That reserved personality was what made the curly-haired boy even more intriguing. Mike would love to see what was behind that mask, to be there to witness the boy’s genuine laugh.

“Do you mind if I join you next time?” He smiled warmly at the other boy. “It’s just that, I don’t think any of our friends are up this early, and I’d love some company.”

Stan looked at him for another moment before shrugging and turning back to the birds. “Sure,” he said, “why not?”

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted you earlier?”

“Homework,” the curly-haired boy said before drawing his wand and pointing it at the feathers under the birds.  _ “Wingardium leviosa.” _

 

* * *

 

“You know, the one time they could be helpful, they’re nowhere to be found,” Richie huffed as he continued scribbling on his parchment. “Why do we have to write an essay on ghosts anyway? It’s not like they could cause danger to us or anything.”

Dustin rolled his eyes without looking up from his homework. Of course Richie would want to ask the house ghosts for help with the essay, although he couldn’t imagine how the boy planned to convince the Bloody Baron to do so. He already knew the Grey Lady wouldn’t cooperate with them on this matter, so he’d already done some research.

“Didn’t you listen to Professor Gray earlier?” The blue-eyed boy asked. If he remembered correctly, and of course he did, then Richie just had Defense Against the Dark Arts earlier that afternoon. “It’s true that they can’t directly harm us, but they can still cause anything from mild annoyance to serious trouble. Some ghosts can have some effects on magic, making spells go haywire. Not to mention, how would you feel if there was a ghost following you everywhere, being annoying to everyone you know, spewing secrets, and scaring people away?”

They were in the Transfiguration classroom — courtesy of his mom — doing homework. Since their ragtag group had members in all four houses, it was impossible to gather in any of their common rooms. It was also getting dark, therefore sitting in the schoolyard would definitely not be the smartest thing a Ravenclaw could think of.

“Dude, are you comparing me to a ghost?” Richie fake-gasped.

“I wish you were,” Eddie grumbled. “That way, I could ask the Ministry to keep you away. I couldn’t hear half of what Professor Gray said because you were sitting right next to me.”

“Aw, Eds,” Richie cooed, “are you saying you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“That’s not what I said,” the short brunet huffed, “and don’t call me that.”

“It’s not working,” Mikey sighed. “Why do you think I’m stuck with this nickname?”

“I think it’s cute,” Will mumbled quietly, and Dustin couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips as he continued working on his History of Magic homework. It was clear from the volume that the hazel-eyed boy hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or for anyone to hear it, and from the lack of response, he didn’t think Mikey had heard it either. There was something precious about the way Will talked to or look at his best friend, and it always made the curly-haired boy feel a little warmer.

“Anyway,” Richie cleared his throat, “even  _ if _ what Dustin said was true, and that was a huge if, there is no way any ghost would even bother to go through such a hassle.”

“Are you kidding me? There have been tons of incidents like that.” The blue-eyed boy scowled. It wasn’t like that kind of record was kept a secret from everyone or anything. He’d literally found dozens of incidents within two hours of reading at the library. “In the late 1400s, the witch Maerwynn got followed by a petty ghost who drove away all her friends, effectively isolated her for years. In 1628, Phrowenia the Magnificent had to cancel her wedding because the ghost of her ex-boyfriend was haunting her in-laws. Xalvador the Wanderer made a career out of banishing ghosts for other witches and wizards. Also—”

“Dustin?” Lucas interrupted his rant.

“What?” The boy scowled and sent his friend an annoyed look. “Hope you know I can only deal with one idiot at a time, so whatever you...”

Dustin trailed off as he followed Lucas’ eyes, and once he realized what the other boy was looking at, he mentally slapped himself.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just doing my homework,” Richie chuckled as he scribbled down all the things the blue-eyed boy had been saying. “How do you spell ‘Phrowenia’, by the way?”

“You tricked me,” the curly-haired boy accused.

“What can I say?” The other boy smirked. “The best way to get an answer is to say the wrong thing.”

“Or, _‘_ _prêcher le faux pour savoir le vrai,’_ as the French say,” Beverly chimed in.

“Holy shit, you speak French?” Max’s eyes widened. “That’s so cool.”

“After my dad got arrested, my aunt sometimes brought me along to one of her work trips,” Bev shrugged. “Kids pick languages up pretty fast, but I know bits and pieces only. It’s not that impressive.”

“What do you mean?” Richie rolled his eyes. “Madam,  _ zat eez impreziv! _ I can’t even speak one language properly.”

“Can we get back to doing our homework, please?” Dustin grumbled. “You know, preferably  _ before _ I turn into Professor Binns?”

“I’ll take turning into Professor Binns over turning into Professor Brenner anytime,” El scrunched her nose. “Too cold.”

“He’s not that bad, he just… Uh…” Will tried to think of something to say, but came up empty-handed.

“Needs to work on being friendly?” Mike suggested.

“Looks at you without seeing you?” Ben chimed in.

“Looks like he has some dark plans for you?” Stan asked without looking up from his work. “Because I always assume he saw Richie walking past him.”

“Thanks for your input, Staniel,” Richie snorted. “Try to be in Potions with El and me and you’ll see how bad he is.”

“Definitely didn’t help when he called Richie and El the worst students he’d ever had either,” Bill shrugged. “That man is scary.”

“That’s probably why he always looks like I murdered his dog, too,” Mikey groaned.

“Will, I love you, and I love Potions as well,” Dustin chuckled, “but you have to admit, these guys have a point. He sucks the warmth out of that room when he walks in.”

“Unlike Eddie’s mom, who makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” Richie snickered.

“Beep beep, asshole,” Eddie scoffed. “You don’t even know what my mom looks like.”

“You’re right,” Richie nodded and turned around, “maybe I should—”

“I will shove my wand down your throat, Richie,” Dustin warned.

“And on that note, let’s return to our homework,” Ben cleared his throat.

 

* * *

 

Unlike his twin brother, Mikey wasn’t enjoying the Halloween feast as much as he’d thought he would. Sure, the food was amazing, and the entertainment was great, but after an hour, the music was becoming too loud for his taste, and the crowd too crowded. He just wanted to find his friends and retreat to the Transfiguration classroom. He wasn’t even sure if he’d find any of his friends there, or if he was even allowed to be there, but at least there would be fewer people.

“Stan,” he yelled over the music as he caught his friend’s arm. “Where is everyone else?” The raven-haired boy might’ve come there with the other Mike and Lucas, but sometime in the night, he’d lost them. On the bright side, he’d spotted Nancy among the Gryffindor Quidditch team, definitely liking this more than he ever would.

“I don’t know,” the other boy yelled back. “I’m looking for them as well. This is getting too much for me.”

“What about Dustin and Ben?”

“Ben went somewhere with Will,” Stan said over the loud music. “I’m not sure about Dustin, though.”

“If you see anyone, can you tell them I’m going to the classroom?” Mikey asked. The Ravenclaw gave him a thumbs up before disappearing in the crowd.

It took him another ten minutes to get out of the Great Hall, but when he finally did, he felt like he could breathe again. A bunch of underaged kids in that room definitely made it too stuffy. Turning on his heels, the Hufflepuff boy immediately headed to their familiar sanctum.

It had been two months since he first stepped foot on that train, and he still couldn’t believe how drastically his life had changed. Of course, he knew there would be changes, but he’d never expected to have gotten himself a best friend on his first day, or to have ten other people call him  _ Mikey. _

He’d never really hated that nickname, but he’d been asking Richie to stop calling him that for a while before Hogwarts, since it was a pretty childish nickname, and he’d thought maybe by not letting anyone use it anymore, it would make him more grown-up. But then, Will had said he liked it, so maybe it wasn’t  _ that _ bad. He would gladly let Richie give him dumber and more childish nicknames if it made Will happy. However, his brother seemed to be more interested in giving a certain someone else dumb nicknames, but he’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

The path from the Great Hall to the Transfiguration classroom was so familiar to him that he didn’t need to pay attention to where he was going anymore, but a quiet thud brought him back to reality. He could hear another thud and someone groaning from just around the corner, and even before he made the turn, he knew he’d find something bad.

What his mind immediately registered was five older Slytherins standing over four kids — two of them were pinned against the wall, and the other two just lay on the ground, undoubtedly the source of the sounds he’d been hearing. To make things even worse, he knew that bunch of kids. He’d been looking for them for the last half an hour. Lucas and the other Mike were the ones still standing, but Will and Ben were on the floor. That detail alone made him see red.

“Hey!” The Hufflepuff boy yelled and immediately dashed towards the scene. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The boy who looked like an older, bullying version of Ben was holding Mike, while his bonier friend was pinning Lucas against the wall. The two guys with mullets were standing over Will and Ben. The fifth guy seemed to prefer staying in the background and observing.

“Oh, look, Henry,” the more muscular of the two mullet guys spoke. “One of the clones.”

“Came to save your mudblood friends?” The other guy — presumably Henry — snarked.

Mikey was now standing in front of Will and Ben, trying to shield them from the bullies. He didn’t need to be a Ravenclaw to know that wouldn’t be too helpful, but there was nothing else he could think of at the moment. Not to mention, this jerk had called his friends the M-word. “Stay the hell away from my friends,” he barked.

“Or what?” The muscular guy asked with an unamused expression. “Whatcha gonna do?”

The younger boy immediately reached for his wand, but before he could,  _ something _ collided with his stomach, and he immediately doubled over in pain.

“What were you trying to do?” Henry asked in a mocking tone. “Make us float around?”

“Let’s show him what happens when you hang out with vermin,” the unnamed guy said, and immediately, the Hufflepuff boy felt a kick to his stomach. He could hear Lucas and Mike screaming something, but it didn’t really matter, since right now, his goal was to shield Ben and Will from the two in front of them. They wouldn’t hurt his friends if they hurt him instead.

“Billy, stop!” Max’s voice echoing through the hallway, stopping the kick that was inches away from hitting his stomach again as they all looked up at her.

“Or what, Max?” The guy whom Mikey assumed was Billy asked. “Are you gonna go back to your room and write to your mom about it?”

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Max drawing her wand and pointing at Billy, but his main focus was on Henry, who had stood in front of him as the other bully approached the redhead.

_ “Petrificus totalus,” _ a voice cried out, and Mikey could see Max collapsing onto the ground with a thud.

“What the fuck, Patrick?” Billy growled and stormed back to the guy who had been watching. “You could’ve hit me.”

“You guys were about to be outnumbered,” Patrick shrugged.

“What the fuck do you think they can do?” Billy asked. “Professor Gray wouldn’t teach dueling spells to first-year students. The worst any of them could do was cast  _ Lumos _ on us.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dustin’s voice came unexpectedly, and before any of the Slytherins could react, Mike heard the curly-haired boy cry out,  _ “Expelliarmus!” _

If Mikey was being honest, he’d had the same thought as Billy, that neither he nor his friends would’ve been able to cast any decent spell to get them out of this situation. In fact, he hadn’t seen any way out of it with them on top, since Ben and Will were unconscious, and Max had just gotten hit by a spell he didn’t know. However, Dustin had proved him wrong as he watched the wands of Billy, Henry, and Patrick flew out of their hands, and the other two bullies also let go of his friends like they’d been zapped.

Unfortunately, the moment that happened, Henry immediately dashed towards the blue-eyed boy and wrapped his hands around Dustin’s neck before anyone could register what had just happened. “Think you’re so smart now, huh?” The bully growled. “Did you think I would need a wand to deal with you? You’re nothing but a—”

_ “Flipendo!” _

As El’s voice echoed through the hallway, Henry’s body was flung back, colliding against both Billy and Patrick, making them all fall onto the ground. When Mike turned around, he felt a wave of relief washed over him when the rest of his friends were there. Stan was kneeling next to Dustin, helping the other boy up, while Richie was rushing towards him.

“Geez, Mikey, can’t you do anything decent without me?” His twin tried to crack a joke, but he could see in the other boy’s eyes how worried he was.

“Guess not,” he chuckled before wincing due to the bruise that was undoubtedly forming on his stomach.

“Just get your wand out and point at them,” Richie whispered before doing exactly that himself. Behind him, Mikey could hear the bullies trying to pick themselves up.

“You little b—”

“Leave our friends alone,” Bev warned, “or we’re not holding back anymore.”

That was when Mike figured out what his friends were trying to do. Surely, not all of them knew dueling spells, but the bullies didn’t know that. The raven-haired boy immediately turned around and copied his twin.

He could see in the bullies’ eyes that they were intensely watching him and his friends, trying to catch their bluff, but it was fairly easy to look determined when he felt this much hatred for the ones who hurt his new family. Finally, as if they’d decided not to take any risks, the five older Slytherins slowly backed away.

“You’re all gonna pay for this,” Billy warned as he turned behind a corner and out of their sights.

Everyone waited for another five seconds, before they heard Will and Ben groan, and Lucas and Mike fell onto their knees.

“Merlin’s beard, guys, are you okay?” Bill asked as he rushed towards them.

“What the hell just happened here?” Eddie squeaked.

“We’re fine, guys,” Lucas said weakly. “We just had a bad feeling about the party. It was a real punch to the gut.”

Despite everything that had just happened, Mike couldn’t help but snort at that.

“You can still make jokes after being beaten like that?” Dustin scoffed.

“Should you be talking after being choked like that, then?” Lucas asked.

“El blasted him off before he could give me any serious damage,” the blue-eyed boy shrugged. “Can’t say the same for the six of you, though.”

“Max got hit by a Full Body-Bind Curse,” Bev provided, “but she’ll be fine.”

“How did you guys do it?” Ben asked as he finally managed to hoist himself up. “I didn’t think any of us knew any dueling spells.”

“My dad taught me,” El said. “Hogwarts might have people who want to take revenge,” she explained.

“I taught myself because I was bored,” Dustin answered. “But I think we have a bigger problem at hand.”

“Yeah,” Mikey agreed. “We all need to learn them, or we’re dead.”

By the way his friends looked, he knew everyone was also thinking the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Have something you wanna see? Have something you want me to change? Let me know in the comments below.
> 
> This random update won't affect the usual schedule, so the next update will be in two weeks. Stay tuned!


	6. A First-Year's Firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's finally back with another update.
> 
> I thought this "mandatory work from home" period would give me more time to write, but who knew a comfortable bed, a giant TV, and like 4 different gaming platforms could be so hindering?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It had been a month since their first encounter with the Slytherin bullies, and things hadn’t exactly been good in Bill’s opinion. Since they weren’t in the same year, there weren’t too many opportunities for them to run into each other, but whenever that happened, a harsh shoulder bump or some not-so-friendly shoving always ensued. He wasn’t sure if his Slytherin friends were safe in their own common room, since Richie, Bev, and El always dismissed them whenever they asked, but just in case, they had all been hanging out in the Transfiguration classroom until curfew every day. Of course, since El and Dustin were now teaching them new spells whenever they had the time, their schedules had also become a lot busier than that of an average first-year student.

Dueling, as Bill had learned, was quite fun once he finally got the hang of it. Or at least, the first time he got  _ that _ excited about learning something new was when Dustin taught them the Disarming Charm. He felt like one of those  _ ‘bull guys’ _ from those American cartoons that Georgie loved so much whenever he faced an opponent and tried to knock their wand out of their hand. However, the only time he mentioned that to someone, Richie ended up with water coming out of his nose as he doubled over laughing, so maybe that wasn’t the best analogy for it. The only two downsides he’d witnessed were when Ben kept throwing everyone’s homework everywhere because of his lack of skill, and Richie kept disarming everyone as a prank.

The Knockback Jinx, however, was another subject altogether. As the name suggested, the spell knocked its target back, and, depending on the user as well as the target, the effect could be anything from pushing someone back a few steps to throwing them across the room. After El had demonstrated it on poor Dustin, they’d only been practicing it on inanimate objects, since unlike the Charms classroom, this pseudo-lair of theirs didn’t have any cushions to catch their falls, and he didn’t think they could use Lucas and Ben as human shields again. Eddie had suggested transfiguring the desks into pillows, but unsurprisingly, none of them had the ability to do that.

“Richie, can you stop doing that?” Dustin groaned as Ben’s wand seemingly flew out of his hand.

“Yeah,” Stan scowled, “it stopped being funny after— Actually, you know what? I’ve never found it funny.”

“You never find anything I say or do funny, Stanthony,” Richie rolled his eyes. “Or, that’s what you allow yourself to say out loud, anyway,” he added with a smirk.

“Nobody’s ever found anything you say or do funny, dickwad,” Eddie huffed.

“Now that’s just not true, Eddie, my love,” the raven-haired Slytherin tutted. “I specifically remember your mom laughing last night right before we did it.”

“That was not funny either,” Eddie threw his quill at the other boy, “and don’t call me that.”

“Plus, she was probably laughing at your unimpressive dick,” Stan deadpanned.

“Stan the Man Gets Off A Good One,” Richie cackled. “But if that were true, I’d hate to see how she’d react to Mikey considering I’m the more impressive twin.”

“First of all, nobody has ever said that,” Mikey scoffed. “Second, can we not talk about Eddie’s mum or dicks? Will is helping me with our Charms homework here.”

“Aw, why didn’t you ask me?” Richie pouted. “It might not be my favorite, but I’m still amazing at it.”

“I know,” Mikey rolled his eyes, “but Will loves it  _ and _ aces it, so he trumps you. Plus, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have Charms together, so it makes more sense to ask him.”

They were hanging out in the Transfiguration classroom, doing their homework and practicing spells like they did every night. Bill had been writing for an hour and a half about The Transformation Formula, which he believed Professor Henderson should give him full marks on, considering how there were only five variables — one of which was  _ the unknown variable.  _ Stan and Eddie were working on Professor Binns’ essay on the Gargoyle Strike of 1911. Will and Mikey were working on Professor Flitwick’s Alohomora homework. Mike was reading the Herbology book that Professor Longbottom had lent him after their last class. The girls were working on Professor Grey’s twelve-inch essay about Erkling, while Dustin was practicing the Knockback Jinx with Ben and Lucas. Richie was supposed to be working on his essay about the Sleeping Draught — something Professor Brenner had given only him because he’d somehow made his cauldron explode, putting half his class to sleep, including Bill, but it seemed like the Slytherin boy had finally reached his limit on how long he could stay still and out of trouble.

“By the way,” Mike interrupted, “are you guys going home this holiday, or are you staying at Hogwarts?”

Bill thought it was about time they, as a group, had this conversation. Obviously, he’d talked about it to some of his friends, so he knew some of their answers already.

“My brother and I are going back home,” Will said with a bright smile. “I can’t wait to see my mom again.”

Bill always found it endearing how the shorter boy’s face lit up whenever he talked about his mum and his brother. He’d asked Will about his Christmas plans about a week ago when they were preparing for bed, and the boy had gushed about his family until midnight. Eddie always said Bill had the same look whenever he talked about Georgie, so he figured he knew how much the other William loved them.

“I know what you mean,” Mike chuckled. “I can’t wait to see my parents either.”

“Well, I can,” Max said nonchalantly. “My stepdad isn’t the most pleasant person to be around.”

The redhead was another person whom Bill knew would come home this holiday. However, unlike Will, the girl didn’t like talking about her family, so he didn’t know the details. He didn’t think anyone other than Bev and El did either, since apparently girls told each other everything.

“Dad’s still adjusting to this whole  _ wizard _ thing, so mum suggested I stay at Hogwarts this holiday,” Stan shrugged. “I don’t even know what it means to be Jewish, and it’s not like I can make it back by Hannukah anyway.”

“I’m going home,” Bill provided. “Georgie is practically begging me to, and I can’t really say no to him.”

“Damn it, I miss him too,” Eddie mumbled. “Give him a hug when you see him for me?”

“You know my parents would love to have you over, right?” Bill raised an eyebrow.

“I know,” his best friend sighed, “but I can’t come back and not let my mom know, and there’s no way she’d let me out of her sight once that happened.”

Unfortunately, Bill knew the shorter boy wasn’t exaggerating, and it was better for Eddie to spend the holiday here than in the grip of his overbearing, magic-hating mother.

“Well, Mickey and I are also staying,” Richie grinned. “Don’t worry, Eds. This is gonna be your best Christmas yet.”

“Already regretting my decision,” Eddie groaned. “And don’t call me that.”

“I’m staying, too,” Dustin jumped in. “I mean, my mom’s here, so I guess that’s a given.”

“You and Richie are both spending this break at school?” Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Don’t burn the castle down by the time I get back.”

“Just for that, I’m not helping you with Potions next week,” Dustin huffed.

“I’m also coming home,” Ben said sheepishly. “My aunt is visiting me and my mum this Christmas.”

“Mine, too,” Bev grinned. “Maybe next year I’ll stay with you guys.”

“I’m staying,” El shrugged. “My dad’s not home anyway.”

“Where’s he?” Dustin inquired.

“Work,” El replied nonchalantly. “Can’t tell me because it’ll jeopardize the mission.”

“And you’re used to that?” Stan raised an eyebrow.

“Daughter of a famous auror,” El reminded him.

“At least I’m not stuck with Richie the whole time,” Mikey said with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, little brother,” Richie grinned back. “I know I’m amazing, but I always try not to overshadow you.”

“For the last time, Richie, I’m not the little brother.”

“Not this again,” Lucas groaned.

 

* * *

 

Lucas was starting to get the hang of this, although he still didn’t understand half the words said by the commentator. He did know that all his friends who were born and raised in the wizarding world were extremely invested in this match, though.

It was the first Saturday of March, which meant it was time for the fourth match of the Inter-House Quidditch Cup, and the score was already 180-50 for Gryffindor. Slytherin was already out of the running with two losses against Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw had also defeated Hufflepuff, but with how heavily the Lions defeated the Serpent, if the red team’s seeker caught the golden snitch now, the blue team would need to win by 700 points during their last match to secure the trophy. Needless to say, every Ravenclaw was also rooting for the Yellow Badgers.

Sports, Lucas decided, were a funny thing. They brought out the most competitive part of his friends — even of those he never thought would be interested in them, like Dustin and Eddie. The week leading up to every match, there was always a surge in banters and insults in class, and even in his circle, everyone was extra competitive. He, however, didn’t pay attention to the atmosphere around him, as something a lot more captivating was getting his attention. He’d taken lots of flying lessons, but the skills and techniques those players were displaying up in the air were something else. This wasn’t the boy’s first Quidditch match, but it was the first time he wanted to be in one of those chasers’ shoes, holding the quaffle and maneuvering through all the obstacles on the field and scoring goals.

An uproar brought him back to reality, and his eyes immediately dashed towards the six goalposts before finally identifying the source of the commotion. The Hufflepuff seeker was floating several feet from the commentary box with his hand raising above his head, undoubtedly holding the golden snitch. Since Gryffindor hadn’t been  _ that _ far ahead, it only meant one thing.

“We won!” Mikey exclaimed and immediately tackled him with a hug, before quickly moving to do the same to the other Mike. This victory meant that other than Slytherin, any team could get the Quidditch trophy this year. Richie could probably tell him the exact year when this last happened — since the raven-haired Slytherin’s head was filled with answers he might never need to trivia questions nobody would ask — but he didn’t care enough to ask anyway since that wasn’t the type of information he needed.

The celebratory hugs didn’t end there, since less than two seconds later, his classmates — and everyone else in his house, for that matter — started pulling anyone they could get their hands on in for an embrace. It was both heartwarming and a little awkward since he was still unable to grasp the importance of this victory. He also would’ve written the hugs down as one of the things Hufflepuffs had in common if it hadn’t been for the tackle he got from someone who was definitely not a Hufflepuff when they finally left the stadium to rendezvous with their friends.

”Congratulations!” Dustin exclaimed as he practically jumped on Lucas’ back. “You guys did it!”

“Get off, you idiot,” he chuckled. “And thanks, I guess? Even though I didn’t do anything.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the curly-haired boy shook his head. “Now Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have a fighting chance. In your face, Gryffindors!”

“Excuse you?” Bill huffed. “We’re very much still in the game, and this loss is only a tiny obstacle to our race. Slytherin is the only hopeless case this year.”

“Excuse you, Denbrough,” Beverly scoffed. “We might’ve lost but we still have ears.”

“Too bad you didn’t have a good Chaser,” Mikey mocked, “or Keeper, or Seeker for that matter. And next year, when your Beaters graduate, you’ll have no one.”

“That’s it, Mikey,” Richie yelled, more for show than anything, “you, me, right now!”

“Bring it on, little bro,” the other twin smirked. “I can take you on any time.”

“Why, you cocky little—”

“Will you two shut up?” Max groaned. “You Hufflepuffs better enjoy your last victory against Gryffindor,” she warned, “because next year I’m gonna be the Seeker.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow at the statement. For some reason, he’d never thought about this before, but of course some of his friends would be interested in more than just watching as well. He supposed it kind of suited her, since the boy could imagine his friend zooming past everyone as she pursued the tiny flying golden ball.

“Sounds great,” Mike sent her a warm smile. “I think I might try out next year as well, but I’m more interested in the Chaser position.”

“Me, too,” Lucas hummed before turning to the last Hufflepuff boy. “What about you, Mikey?”

“I’ll pass,” the raven-haired boy shook his head. “I’m not that good at sports.”

“‘Not  _ that _ good’? Please, Mikey,” Richie snorted. “Last time you tried that No-Maj sport, you got hit in the face with a bat.”

“ _ You _ hit me in the face with a baseball bat, jerk,” the other twin said incredulously. “You were the one swinging it around without looking.”

“You got hit in the face?” Will frowned and turned towards his best friend, and Lucas had to stop himself from rolling his eyes because there was no way the other boy would be able to spot something that had probably happened years ago.

“I never thought  _ you _ were the twin who got hit in the head with a bat, Mikey,” Stan commented nonchalantly.

“Yowza!” Richie cried. “Stan the Man Gets Off A Good One! Great Moment in History! Ladies and gen—”

“Beep-beep, Richie,” Eddie said, but even he couldn’t stop the smirk forming on his lips.

“Are you gonna join the Slytherin Quidditch team, then?” Ben asked. “Looks like you can swing your bat as often as you like here.”

“Nah,” the boy shook his head. “I  _ am _ Mikey’s twin, Benny Boy. Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to put my skills to good use.”

“‘Worry’?” Dustin raised an eyebrow. “I think he’s more relieved because you won’t hit any of us in the face.”

“ _ Et tu, _ Dustopher?” Richie wailed. “Betrayed! By my best buds! What a tragic ending to a—”

“Anyway,” the curly-haired boy interrupted, “if you feel like whacking someone, may I direct you towards Jameson?”

“You think injuring our Seeker is enough to stop us from beating you?” Bill scoffed. “The only way the Ravenclaw Quidditch team can get close to that trophy is because our team will hold it when they dance on your—”

“Don’t forget, your biggest threat is over here, guys,” Mikey said in a sing-song voice. “After all, Hufflepuff is playing against Slytherin.”

“Okay, you know what?” Beverly huffed. “Wands out, Tozier! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

“I’m a Wheeler!”

 

* * *

 

“I messed up,” Stan groaned.

“You didn’t mess up,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I did,” the other boy protested. “I wrote Phobos before Deimos. She’s going to think I forgot Deimos and only added it in later.”

“I don’t think Professor Sinistra cares about the order we list the moons of Mars,” Ben said sheepishly. “She’s just gonna be pleased that you answered the bonus question correctly.”

If he was being honest, Ben had been slightly surprised that Stan had managed to last this long without freaking out over a test. He’d learned from all the time they’d spent together that the boy was somewhat of a perfectionist, and the less sleep he got, the more on edge he would be. Naturally, his friend had barely slept the week leading up to their first-ever Hogwarts exam, so he’d expected Stan to freak out sometime around the Potions test. However, Eddie had been the one going hysterical in the library about his potion’s color leaning more towards azure than turquoise, getting them all thrown out as a result. El had just been glad hers hadn’t melted her cauldron.

“Dude,” Dustin sighed, “she’s not gonna fail the only student who could tell her when the five moons of Pluto makes a funny shape in the sky.”

“Okay, first of all, a pentagram bears a significant magical meaning and you know it,” Stan huffed. “Second, I’m definitely not the only one getting it right.”

“The only two, then,” the blue-eyed boy scoffed. “Sorry, Ben.”

“I don’t really mi—”

“I’m sure Will also got that right.”

“Jeez, fine, the only three,” Dustin groaned. “Does that satisfy you?”

“Actually,” Will interrupted, “I could only remember the year.”

“I’m just saying—”

“No, Stan,” Dustin interrupted. “It was a bonus question. Repeat after me. Bo-nus.” The blue-eyed boy looked like he was a hair’s breadth from casting  _ Mimblewimble _ on Stan, which would be extremely bad not only because nobody should be on the receiving end of a Tongue-tying spell right before an exam, but also because Ben couldn’t even imagine how Stan would react or retaliate in that situation.

“I think after this, you both should get some sleep,” he chuckled, trying to defuse the situation a bit.

“It’s not my fault he’s being like this,” the curly-haired Ravenclaw protested. “I couldn’t even answer most of the questions he  _ thinks _ he got wrong.”

“I’m sure you didn’t do as bad as you think you did either,” Bill rolled his eyes.

“Oh, trust me,” Dustin snorted, “I would be lucky if I got an E on that one.”

“Seriously?” Max raised an eyebrow. “Half of us are hoping for an A, and you’re here worrying about not getting an E?”

The other boy’s cheeks darkened at that. “It’s not like I’m asking for an O or anything,” he mumbled.

They were in the Transfiguration classroom, not as another after-school activity, but because Professor Henderson was about to call them in for the practical exam. Well, technically, some of them had already done their tests, such as the two Williams. Will was one of the worst among them in this particular subject, but the boy had gotten a lot of pointers from both the twins and Dustin, so Ben had no doubt he’d done well. Bill, on the other hand, was among the best of them when it came to Transfiguration, and that was probably why the boy hadn’t looked even remotely worried when he’d walked out earlier. Ben really hoped he’d be able to look as relaxed someday, since after all, this was one of his favorite subjects.

In a way, he supposed Transfiguration was everyone’s favorite subject, but that was only because Professor Henderson was the sweetest witch he’d ever met. If one only took the subject itself into consideration, it would have significantly fewer fans. Among the best three Transfiguration students in their group, and arguably the best three in their year, only Richie loved it, and Ben suspected it had more to do with the potential in pranking others with it. Bill would rather use his free time to learn more about Defence Against the Dark Arts — that was to say, dueling — and Dustin’s dislike had more to do with how people always expected him to be the best at what his mother taught.

“I can’t wait for this to be over,” Eddie said exasperatedly. “We only have DADA and Herbology left, so that’s four more hours with Professor Gray and Professor Longbottom. I hope Professor Gray is in a good mood today.”

“You’ll be fine,” Bill chuckled. “You might not be the best at DADA, but you’re not bad at all.”

Ben couldn’t help but snort at the statement. He didn’t think anyone in their group was that bad at the subject, since he was already the worst skill-wise, and he still could probably get an Acceptable — after some help from Bill during their nightly homework sessions. However, he wasn’t Eddie, and he definitely didn’t have that urge to prove himself like the shorter boy.

“I want her to see I’m not just a weak kid with a bunch of diseases, and ‘not bad’ just won’t cut it,” the brunet huffed.

“I don’t think anything you do would change her mind,” Bill sighed, “but that doesn’t mean she’s right, either. I think we all know how strong you actually are.”

“He’s right,” Will said with a smile. “I don’t think anyone who really knew you would think of you as a weak kid. We should know. We’ve seen you in action, after all.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimed in. “You disarmed three of us at the same time, after all.”

“I already told you,” Eddie huffed. “I was trying to jinx Richie.”

“Not the best at aiming, I’ll admit,” Stan shrugged, “but that was still something.”

“But you still need to work on that aiming,” Max shook her head. “I really don’t want to be collateral damage again.”

“How did you become collateral damage when you weren’t the one who got disarmed?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If Bev gets disarmed, I won’t have a partner, will I?” The redhead countered.

“It literally took her five seconds to—”

“Mr. Hanscom,” Professor Henderson’s voice pulled Ben away from the bubbling argument, “you’re next.”

“Coming, Professor!” He turned to his friends with a sheepish grin. “Wish me luck, guys.”

“I studied with you,” Bill snorted. “Trust me, you don’t need luck.”

The Ravenclaw boy rolled his eyes and headed towards the classroom door, but couldn’t stop his cheeks from darkening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Expected something else? Let me know all in the comments.
> 
> Can you guess which house shares which class with which from what I'd written? Tell me your guesses and I'll tell you if you're right.
> 
> I've made a Google Form and a spreadsheet and asked like 4 other people to give their inputs on what each character's favorite, best, and worse subject should be, and you can see some of the answers from this chapter. Care to guess the rest?
> 
> Won't give you an exact date for the next update since I don't even know it yet, but next time, they won't be first-years anymore. Stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me @[trashmouthdiangelo](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trashmouthdiangelo) on tumblr.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Small thanks to @[castrateyourhumanpride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride), @[shewasthewind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasthewind/), and @[trashmouthTM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deasar/pseuds/trashmouthTM) for proofreading this, and my other WIPs as well.


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